Knocking on an Open Door
by The Petulant Prodigy
Summary: 21-year-old art student and virgin Ichigo Kurosaki is confronted with an emotion he never thought he would experience: love at first sight. But who was the first sight? Twins never play fair. AU, slight OOC, Yaoi. My first triangle/threesome.
1. Two of a Kind

**Knocking on an Open Door**

Chapter 1: Two of a Kind

...

_'First love is only a little foolishness and a lot of curiosity.' –George Bernard Shaw_

_..._

From the first moment he walked in, I knew he was going to be trouble.

Trouble for the teacher.

Trouble for the other students.

Trouble for me.

His washed-out jeans were ripped in the knees, his classic white-and-black Converse sneakers looking scuffed and worn out. His white t-shirt was hacked at the sleeves with the words _'THE WORLD IS A WHORE'_ stamped across the front in black script. His forearms swirled with tattoos so deep in color they almost hurt my eyes, even from my seat halfway across the lecture hall. His blue hair was bright, almost like cotton candy, but darker somehow. So messy, tangled in a sophisticated kind of way.

No backpack. No messenger bag. Just a black composition notebook and a pen held lazily in one hand and a yellow slip of paper in the other.

Nobody could tear their eyes away from the student who had just been added to the junior roster of Karakura University of the Fine Arts.

We knew he was a transfer because the first thing he did upon entering the classroom was drop the yellow slip of paper in front of the professor while he stood at his podium, having been lecturing on the finer points of European Renaissance art. Sensei glanced over the yellow document for barely a minute before nodding his head several times and motioning for him to take a seat in one of the many rows of the lecture hall.

He mounted the steps and I realized how tall he must be as he approached my level. 6'1'', 6'2''? Enough to make me jealous, that was for sure.

I thought I'd choke on my own tongue when I saw two silver studs in his lower lip glint in the light, a set of spider bite piercings, not to mention the black plugs in his ears. His eyes were like burning ice, if that makes sense.

He slid into my row, only two people away from me.

I tried to focus on my notes.

I heard him roll his seat back, squirm in his chair a little. He finally put his feet up on the desk and I turned my head just enough so I could see the tops of his shoes in my peripheral.

On the topside edge of his right sneaker, it said _FUCK FREUD_ in English.

I snorted.

The room quieted.

"Is there something about Michelangelo's Pieta you find amusing, Mr. Kurosaki?" the professor deadpanned, staring up at me as I felt heat gather in my face.

They all waited. I had nothing to say. I was beyond embarrassed.

"There's a lot of shit amusing about it."

Everybody's head tilted towards the left. More specifically, towards the unfamiliar voice at the end of my row, the voice that was rough like cigarettes but still smooth like satin sheets and as edible to my ears as chocolate.

"Really? Care to enlighten us, Mr…?" The professor looked down at the paper the blue-haired punk had given him but paused, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Jaegerjaques," the transfer student said, legs still carelessly flung over the top of his desk. I noticed one of his shoes had become untied. Either that, or the lace was very long, "Grimmjow Jaegerjaques."

"Interesting," the professor said with a smirk, adjusting his black-rimmed glasses, "a very unique name you have there, Jaegerjaques-san."

Grimmjow shrugged, "It's the only one I've got."

The professor smiled again, an unnerving smile that I've never been comfortable with. Aizen-sensei is not a professor I have ever taken lightly and not one I think Grimmjow should challenge.

"Would you care to enlighten me in regards to this masterpiece?" Aizen said cheerfully, waving his pointer stick back towards the projection shot of the famous piece of free-standing marble art, "Tell me, what about the portrayed death of a prominent religious figure, Christ Himself, do you find the least bit amusing?"

"How about the fact that he's not proportional?" Grimmjow began, his voice sounding bored, "Don't know what kind of statement 'Gelo's trying to make with a Virgin Mary that's twice the fuckin' size of her dead savior. With those measurements, if she was standing, she'd be a giant. Christ looks like a kid laying on her lap, not a full grown crucified man."

Again there was silence. Nobody moved. I slid down farther in my chair, wondering if Aizen's wrath would fall upon me as well as Grimmjow due to my innocent interruption.

"Michelangelo is considered one of the greatest Italian Renaissance artisans," Aizen replied, an amused smirk still on his face, "he must have had some idea of what he was doing."

"Considering he did the Sistine Chapel while lying on his back on stories-high scaffolding with paint dripping into his face and eyes for over two years, causing him to go nearly blind, I'd say you're right. Michelangelo's one tough motherfucker."

Again, there was an uneasy silence only punctuated by the sound of the air conditioning kicking in and circulating throughout the large room. Aizen stared up at Grimmjow while Grimmjow looked away from the projected picture, now disinterested.

Aizen adjusted some papers on his podium, "Perhaps one day in the future your artwork will also be found humorous during a college lecture, Jaegerjaques-san."

I stared at Grimmjow, unable to look away as he crossed his arms over his chest, his face looking quite serious, "I fucking hope so."

…

Later that day, after a free period in the art studio, I was invited to grab a cup of coffee with one of my good friends from the music department, Chad. We grabbed our coffees from the swank little café boasted on campus and relaxed on a bench just outside one of the main music auditoriums, chatting about exams and other bullshit. Not too much time later, Chad confessed that he had work that evening and needed to go. I watched him walk away, sighing heavily before running a hand through my annoying orange locks, my coffee gone and my mind slowly sinking into a familiar depression.

I didn't feel like going back to my dorm room. I'd applied for a single occupancy room, which, looking back on it, I shouldn't have done. I enjoyed the college, but having a roommate would have made making friends a hell of a lot easier. I just…I couldn't imagine having a roommate this late in the game. I wasn't an only child, but I'd never had to share before, and it really wasn't out of selfishness more then it was out of privacy. I couldn't imagine sharing a room with another male student, having my privacy disrupted, having to know that I was feet away from another sleeping male. I had never told anyone that I was gay, not even Chad. I had never even gone out with somebody before. There had been a few girls growing up that had shown interest, but I had been oblivious or shy. A part of me hoped that the world would figure it out on its own: I didn't need to broadcast something so personal.

But not broadcasting was just as difficult, considering I had never had a male relationship before either. I'd kissed a few boys, but they'd all been drunken decisions at frat parties that nobody ever remembered in the morning, leaving me in an even worse state of depression.

_I am a twenty one year old virgin with less dating experience then my younger twin sisters._

It sounds stupid, but I was beyond lonely. I don't know what I wanted, but what I think I needed was change from what had become my day-to-day existence.

I continued to sit on the bench, waiting for a sign, divine intervention from Kami. Eventually I got tired of waiting and decided to check out the auditorium.

It was beginning to get late. Most students didn't stick around the auditoriums, lecture halls, or art studios past five and it was nearing seven. Feeling useless, I slipped into the music auditorium, staring at the rows and rows of empty leather seats. It was one of the smaller auditoriums with a stage and proper lighting, a shiny black grand piano looking impressive under the harsh lights.

My jaw unhinged when I realized somebody was sitting at the piano, a notebook in their lap, eyebrows drawn together in concentration as they stared down at whatever it was he was writing. A shock of blue hair immediately made my insides curl, and when he lifted his head and set the notebook on the piano stand, I thought my legs would give out from beneath me.

Grimmjow's long slim fingers positioned themselves over the ivory keys, immediately beginning up a soothing melody that had my insides melting. His hair was different from this morning. In fact, he'd changed his outfit. A pair of loose-fitting dark-washed jeans and a plain white long-sleeved t-shirt, his blue hair seeming longer now that it wasn't styled up in that cohesive mess I'd seen this morning. It was down and loose around his face, accentuating his high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes.

I moved down the aisle to get closer, keeping to the shadows so as not to draw his attention as the music flowed, growing in power as his fingers flew over the keys. I noticed that his lip studs were gone, and the shirt prevented me from seeing his intricate tattoos on his arms, but I did see ink on the skin just before his knuckles, something curving that I couldn't read from this distance. That was a tattoo I had seen this morning, but the air about him was so…different.

_Was this really Grimmjow?_

I froze as I knocked into a metal music stand intended for rehearsals that I hadn't seen. It clattered noisily to the ground.

The music stopped. Grimmjow locked eyes with me.

All the air left my lungs as those eyes settled on me, his face showing no anger or irritation at having been interrupted. Instead, he offered me a warm smile. I felt my heart constrict and knew that I was a goner.

"Hello," he said in a soft voice. And it was soft, soft in a way that seemed impossible for the Grimmjow I had seen in the classroom this morning. The German accent also peaked through, and now I was blushing because he was still staring at me in a calmly friendly way and I didn't know what to do.

"Sorry," I rushed, picking up the music stand and running my hands on my jean-clad thighs to clear them of sweat.

"What for?" Grimmjow said.

"For interrupting?" I said, the statement somehow coming out sounding more like a question. My neck and ears burned as he regarded me, standing up from his place at the piano to make his way almost silently to the edge of the stage. He sat down, his long legs hanging off the edge of the stage as he stared back at me.

"I think you're the best interruption I've ever had," he said quietly, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smile while I gulped for air and tried to figure out what to do or say.

I had never been this tongue-tied. This creature was just too…too… "Amazing."

Grimmjow smiled at me. I went into cardiac arrest.

Or at least it felt like it. Did he have no idea how gorgeous he was? How appealing? The man was already affecting me in ways I didn't think were humanly possible. Is this what they called love at first sight? I had never been a believer in it until this moment.

And still…I felt as if this was the first time I had ever seen him before, which was ludicrous. He had saved me in class this morning from complete humiliation, taking a fall for me for no reason. I owed him my gratitude.

"What's amazing?" he said, his eyes as deep as the ocean. I couldn't look away.

"Y-your music," I amended quickly, embarrassed I had almost said something else. Grimmjow did not need to know he had a crazy stalker this early in the game.

What the hell was I thinking? No way did I have a chance with him. He was gorgeous. The entire student body was probably already reeling over him. I could imagine the number of girls giggling behind their hands and snapping shots of him on their cell phones when they thought he wasn't paying attention. I was still bright as a tomato.

"Thank you," he said, his hands on either side of him, bracing the edge of the stage, his gaze still locked on me, "I didn't think anybody would be here this late. I'm pleasantly surprised. I haven't had the pleasure of meeting anyone yet considering I just transferred."

By this point I was thoroughly confused. The more I listened to him, the more I was convinced that this wasn't Grimmjow, or if it was, he was suffering from a multiple personality disorder and I needed to get him to a psychiatrist. His skin was lighter then I remembered, and his polite quiet speech was not gruff or sarcastic or in any way like the voice I had heard this morning. It was gorgeous, attractive, and sexy, yes, but it was somehow different.

"What's your name?" he asked, and I thought my heart had dropped through my stomach.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Ichigo," he repeated, saying it slowly as if contemplating it.

_This is it_, I thought. _This is where he makes a joke about my name._ I've always resented the fact that people immediately associate it with the delicious red fruit.

"That's a strong name. 'One who protects', correct?" he said with that half smile, "Very unique. Is it all right for me to be so informal? Do you prefer Kurosaki?"

I was completely taken aback. I felt like I was going to collapse from surprise. Not only did he not make fun of my name, he _complimented it._

Who was this kid who had managed to steal my heart in less then twenty-four hours?

"You can call me whatever you want," I said truthfully, feeling like an idiot as soon as the statement left my mouth.

He grinned at me again and I don't know how I was still breathing. The room was too small, and I felt like I was sweating out of every pore on my body.

He held out his hand, "It's nice to meet you, Ichigo."

I took the few steps forward, approaching the edge of the stage, holding out my hand. Our skin made contact. He shook my hand firmly, my arm loose as pudding. I felt like a live wire, the hairs on my arms standing up at full attention. My mouth went dry.

"Godric, you still in here?"

I yanked my hand away from him as if I had been electrocuted, spinning at the familiar voice that had my stomach doing somersaults.

This couldn't be happening. It was impossible.

_I had known from the beginning that he was going to be trouble._

Grimmjow made his way towards the stage, looking me over once before locking eyes with his doppelganger, "Am I interrupting something here?"

"Not at all, _lieber bruder_*," he said slowly, looking at me again, "Just making a new acquaintance. This is Kurosaki Ichigo."

"Kurosaki," Grimmjow said, arms folded over his chest, "You're the idiot from this morning. Pissed off the art teacher who thinks he knows fuck-all about sculpture, yeah?"

"Yeah, that's me," I said, looking between the two people before me who could only be twins, "I thought…"

Godric grabbed his notebook from the piano before he slipped off the side of the stage. Now that they were next to each other, I could definitely see the subtle differences. The skin tones, the styling. Godric's eyes were a lighter blue and he was barely an inch shorter then Grimmjow and still taller than me. Grimmjow was broader, but Godric was by no means gangly or unfit. They were the most gorgeous brothers I had ever seen.

Grimmjow said something hurriedly in a language I assumed to be German; it was gruff but still sounded sexy. Godric replied with a few words before looking at me and smiling, "Sorry. My brother is being rude."

"No. Not at all. Your Japanese is amazing," I replied, feeling like a tongue-tied lunatic.

"Our mother was Japanese," Godric said while Grimmjow stared at me. He was staring like he was evaluating me, searching me. I felt incredibly self-conscious as his eyes openly roamed my body. I told myself he was a fellow artist.

"Let's go, Godric. We can play with the kitten later," Grimmjow said dismissively, tugging on his brother's forearm.

Godric looked at me apologetically, "Sorry, Ichigo."

I watched them go, leaving me in silence.

I shuddered as soon as I was completely alone, thinking about what they had said. What had Grimmjow meant?

And even more importantly, what was Godric sorry about?

...

The next several days were spent wishing I would run into the brothers. Grimmjow never said a word to me in class; he wouldn't even look at me. Aizen-sensei continued to rattle on and on and all I could do was doodle idly in my notebook, thinking about the conversaton I had had with Godric.

In my desperation, I even went back to the music studio. Godric hadn't been there.

In my painting class almost a week later I was beginning to feel depressed when one of the studio doors slammed open and who should walk in but Grimmjow, his jeans so shredded I wondered if he had been attacked by a Rotweiler, his plain black tee covered in blue and red splatters of paint. Dark aviator sunglasses covered his eyes, his turgid blue hair piled like a monsoon. An unlit cigarette was tucked behind his ear, a large wet canvas under one of his armpits while his other hand carried a black bag that I assumed to be painting supplies.

"Oi, this Advanced Placement Painting?" he barked and a dozen heads swiveled in his direction along with the studio teacher.

Szayel-sensei lifted a cool pink eyebrow, "I don't believe you're in my class, Mr...?"

"This fuckin' ape kicked me out of his painting class," Grimmjow said nonchalantly as if it was no big deal to be excused from a class permanently or to refer to another teacher as an 'ape'.

"And why is that?" Szayel said with a spark of interest. I didn't like the new gleam in his eye: Szayel-sensei had always been a monger for gossip and he was quite the mad genius as far as art teachers went. I didn't like the way he was looking at him, like he was a new experiment.

"Took a box cutter to somebody's canvas," Grimmjow said dismissively, "Not my fault the little fucker wouldn't lay off my hair."

Someone in the classroom snickered while I stared at him slackjawed. I don't know why such knowledge surprised me, but i did.

_He's so...different._

"Well, I suppose you can sit in for today, but if you plan on transferring into my class, you'll need to go through the registrar," Szayel said with a chuckle. He pulled out the class attendance sheet and a pencil, "Your name, please?"

"Jaegerjaques, Grimmjow," he said before moving across the room and grabbing an unused wooden easel. He propped his large canvas on it and swiveled it around so that he could get away from the lighting of the large glass windows that took up two walls of the studio. This surprised me. Every student, including me, had some source of natural lighting. Why was he avoiding it?

Everyone was quietly continuing their own paintings, but everyone's eyes continued to shift over to the mad man who had decided to come amongst us. He wasn't quiet at all as he moved about the room, getting plastic cups of water from the well-used and paint-covered sink, paper towels from a dispenser, and grabbing a small paint-splattered stool from the corner that we use as part of our still life concentrations on occasion. This he used to set up his paints. My eyes went wide when I saw him pull the tubes from the bag and begin squeezing them with abandon, a very, very expensive brand that nobody else in the room had or could afford. He pushed his sunglasses up out of his eyes and grabbed a thick-bristled black brush and began attacking his canvas with abandon.

I stopped pretending to paint and just watched him, his hand never wavering, never a sign of indecision. His blue eyes never left the canvas, never veered off to look at anyone else or anyone else's work. I was so hypnotized, in fact, that I hadn't heard Szayel-sensei come up behind me.

"Problem, Kurosaki?"

I nearly fell off of my stool, "Uh, no, sensei. Sorry."

Szayel smirked before wandering off to appreciate someone else's work and I let out a small sigh of relief.

When I looked up, Grimmjow's eyes were on mine. I froze.

"You ever catch shit fer yer hair?"

"What?" I said, the back of my neck heating up.

"Do you. Ever. Catch shit. For your. Hair?" he said, breaking the sentence up in such a weird way that I couldn't help but snort.

"Yah. All the fucking time," I answered honestly, running a hand through my unruly orange spikes for emphasis. I wouldn't tell him that I'd gotten my eyebrow pierced and the two silver hoops in my ears to make me look more of a delinquent then I actually was. The ploy had worked well for the past two years since I had gotten the piercings done; most people left me alone, assuming it was a dye job.

He grinned at me, a grin that reminded me of his twin brother, and my heart skipped a beat, "You a trouble maker, Kurosaki?"

I gulped, "No. Not really."

"Too bad," he said dismissively, flicking his paintbrush at his canvas again, "At least you don't look like a total pussy."

I don't know what to say to this, but my classic temper is starting to get the better of me, "Fuck you."

Grimmjow's leer was making my blood boil, his eyes roaming my body in a way that made my dick twitch, "Nah, you're the one that needs a pounding. You look like a screamer."

I feel as if my entire body is blushing at this point and half the people in the room are eavesdropping on our conversation by now. The girls look like they're going to faint while the guys have a look of disgust.

"This isn't time for chatting," Szayel-sempai says commandingly from the other side of the room, "You can talk in an hour, when class is over."

"Sorry, sensei," I say automatically, used to the ingrained response. I look at Grimmjow. He looks like he's never apologized for anything in his life.

And I hate him for it.

_He's something I can never be. _

...

After class, I'm slow in putting away my painting supplies, lingering as long as possible because even though the class has been dismissed, Grimmjow made no move to start cleaning up. He's being much more careful with his brush now, his strokes long and languid and I can't help but stare at the muscles in his arm as it flexes. His fingers are long and look calloused, and that's when I notice that he's looking at me again and I look away.

"What?" he says, and its the way he says it that makes my mind scramble to say something coherent.

"Why aren't you using natural lighting?" I say, hoping I can cover for the fact I was staring like a love-struck moron by feigning artistic curiosity.

He sighs, looking at me like I'm a dumbass, "Natural lighting changes every fifteen minutes. The sun's unreliable."

I furrow my eyebrows, never having been told this information by an art teacher, but it made sense. As the sun continues to travel across the sky, the lighting would constantly change, shifting shadows and expanding angles. How stupid of me not to think of something like that.

"Oh," I say lamely, grabbing my bag.

I'm almost to the door when I hear, "Go grab me something to eat."

I turn around, stare at him, "What?"

"Are you fuckin' retarded?" Grimmjow says, staring at his canvas instead of me. He lifts his eyes and I feel like hyperventilating, "I'm hungry. Go get me something."

"What do you want?" I reply stupidly, realizing my infatution has been taken to an entirely different level if I'm already his slave.

"Pizza," he says dismissively, turning back to his canvas, "And hurry. I'm fuckin' starving."

...

About twenty minutes later I'm on my way back from the tiny hole-in-the-wall pizza place just off campus when I realize I never even asked Grimmjow what kind he likes. I'd ordered a large cheese because I'd been confident in the fact that if anything, plain cheese pizza was the safest route.

But knowing what I knew (or didn't know) about Grimmjow was that he was the most unpredictable person on the planet. What if he got pissed that there was nothing on it? What if he liked pepperoni? Mushrooms? Green pepper or, heaven forbid, anchovies?

I worried myself sick the whole way back to the painting studio. When I got inside, Grimmjow had cleared up his paints and was sitting on the teacher's desk, elbows resting on his torn knees, glasses low on his nose as he looked at me, rolling paper in his hand.

"Are you rolling a joint?" I say aloud, the pizza forgotten in my hands.

"Yep," he says, licking the edge before folding it over, "Now bring that pizza over here and we'll have ourselves a party."

This is stupid. This is beyond stupidity. Food isn't even aloud in the studio much less an illegal substance, and anyone can walk in at any time, but my mind has been boycotted by my body and I pull up a chair to the desk and open the pizza box.

"What's in there?" Grimmjow asks, fingering the small plastic bag slung on my arm.

"Grabbed some drinks too."

"You think of everything," he said with a smirk before picking up a piece of pizza and annihilating it in less time then I thought was humanly possible, "Good thing it's plain. I was worried I'd have to kick yer ass."

_How am I finding him adorable right now? Charming, even? What the fuck is wrong with me?_

We continue to eat in companionable silence and when the pizza is completely gone and we've drank our sodas, he pulls a lighter free from his jeans pocket and lights the joint. He puffs on it long and hard. I watch him open his mouth, allowing the billowing cloud to haze out softly and then he breathes in heavily through his nose, the cloud that had been coming out of his mouth now sucking into his nostrils. He finally releases, spraying the smoke in my face.

He takes one more puff before offering it to me. I'm embarassed to say I've never even tried it; my dad was incredibly strict about these kinds of things and I believe it when people say he shelters his children too much. I'd never even had an inclination towards the stuff, but something possesses me and the only thing I can think about is the fact that Grimmjow's lips have been on the joint and I take it in my hand and I take a drag.

I exhale almost immediately, my chest feeling weird and I let out a weak cough.

He grins at me, "Ah, did I just pop your Mary Jane cherry?"

I blush furiously as I take another drag, determined to hold it in for as long as possible before exhaling. I've only had two hits and I'm already feeling the effects, feeling lighter. I hand it back to him before saying, "Shut up."

"So," he says, blowing more smoke in my face again, "You're into my brother."

My eyes go impossibly wide before I shake my head, "N-no, no I'm not."

"Fuckin' liar," he murmurs, "I'm not an idiot. You were eye-fuckin'."

"No I wasn't, shut up!"

"We're twins," he drawls, blowing smoke out of his nostrils, "I'm older by six minutes. I'm the older brother. I know more about him then he knows about his own goddamn self."

I don't say anything because I'm hypnotized by his lulling voice; it's gruff but affectionate and I have a wild moment where I imagine Grimmjow being all over me.

"They say twins can read each other, know what the other is feeling," Grimmjow said, blowing more smoke into my face with an amused grin, "Would'ja like 'ta know?"

I snatch what little is left of the joint from Grimmjow's fingers and chief it, sucking as much into my lungs as I can possibly stand, closing my eyes and ignoring his previous statement before opeing my eyes and blowing all that pungent smoke right into Grimmjow's face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, hoping my face is quite serious. My eyes are starting to burn.

Grimmjow's leer is slower then drying paint, "He'd fuck 'ya."

"Shut up."

He gets off the edge of the desk, towering over me, his shit-eating grin severely weakening my knees, "He'd fuck you, then I'd fuck you. Maybe we'd fuck ya at the same time."

I don't know what to say and my head is feeling light and heavy at the same time, the back of my skull feeling as if it is beginning to slide away and my eyes are still burning, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"He wants it, he's just more patient then me," Grimmjow continues as if I never posed a question, "He likes to earn things. I don't. I just take."

I take a step away from him as he grabs the front of my shirt and I'm frozen and I want to fight at the same time.

"See 'ya around, Kurosaki," he says before ruffling my orange locks and pulling a wad of yen out of his back pocket and throwing it in the air in front of my face. He tells me it's for the pizza, but the bills are marked high and it's much more money then a stupid pizza cost me. I watch the bills float to the ground as he leaves the classroom.

I stand still, staring at my shoes, my fists shaking at my sides, "What...the...fuck...?"

**…**

_A/N: And so begins a journey I have never contemplated before my realistic dream sequence a week ago. To my readers who constantly take chances with my work, I understand if you are ready to abandon ship. Very few fan fiction fans can tolerate an original character, much less a three-way forbidden love triangle. I could see a Grimmjow like Godric so clearly that I simply had to create him, although I'm sure many of you are apprehensive. I myself am not a fan of original characters, although there have been a select few I am willing to read about due to their amazing characterization or charming wit. Whether you are for it or against it, please consider reviewing for my sake. I would love to hear feedback on what is working and what is not. Life in general has been getting in the way of my writing, and I apologize for that. I know I am letting a lot of you down by turning my attention in another direction yet again, but this idea simply refused to be tucked away and saved for a later date. It was literally clawing at the back of my brain and after chatting with a friend I came to the conclusion that it is far better to write something then nothing at all. This by no means implies that I will be abandoning any of my other projects; simply another outlet for a crowded and stressed mind. ~TPP_

*_German: 'dear brother'_


	2. Wild Card

**Knocking On An Open Door**

Chapter 2: Wild Card

I didn't sleep at all that night.

Thinking and thinking all night long didn't do much good, considering I didn't know what to think about Grimmjow any more now then what I had before. Our little bonding experience, if anything, left me more confused then when I had first encountered him.

I dragged myself out of bed and eventually made it to my first class in a daze, taking a seat in an abandoned desk and making myself comfortable. The teacher droned and droned and droned and thoughts of the twins continued to flit through my thoughts.

The next class was very much the same. The monotony was sickening. Was I already addicted? Did I need his presence that much? I couldn't wait to see him…couldn't…wait.

I filed into Aizen-sensei's class early just to assure I sat on the edge, the second seat in a row not too close to the front but not too far in the back. I put my famous scowl on my face to ensure no one was stupid enough to try and sit in the empty seat next to me, and, knowing what I knew about Grimmjow, he'd probably be late.

And so he was. Of course Grimmjow blazed into the room like a bloody rock star, taking everybody's attention AGAIN. It made me a little jealous that not only could he enter a room and command attention so effortlessly but that he wasn't doing it for me and me alone.

It was a stupid thought to have, but I felt it all the same.

I watched him saunter across the lecture hall: same ripped jeans and a red t-shirt with a rooster on it with the words 'Pet My Cock' scrawled across the abdomen. I averted my eyes, pretending to study the projection on the screen as I listened to his heavy footsteps on the stairs.

_Here he comes..._

He was on my level now, and then he'd…

_Pass?_

I cocked my head slightly to watch him disappear up another few steps, taking a seat several rows above me.

I didn't know exactly how to feel.

Honestly, what had I expected? That we were _friends_ now? Was I that naïve?

No. No. Anybody in their right mind would assume friendship after our little lunch party. Right?

I continued to obsess over what it could mean until I finally told my brain to shut the fuck up. Grimmjow is a certifiable ass hole; he's a prick who doesn't think about anybody else but himself.

So…why did it hurt my feelings that he chose not to sit next to me?

Somehow, halfway through the lecture, I found myself craning my neck to the point of pain to take a look back at him.

Low and behold, his molten blue eyes locked with mine, his feral grin in place. He chuckled, something deep and throaty that made the few students around him look at him in astonished interest.

I flicked him the bird.

He licked his lips, his eyes taunting me.

_Fuck_. I was not cut out for these mind games.

I'm sure Grimmjow knew that.

…

When class dismissed I left the lecture hall fuming, ready to beat anybody that looked at me wrong into a bloody pulp.

I was so pissed off at him that I didn't even realize I had gone down an unfamiliar hallway.

So pissed off that I ran into a solid wall of flesh and fell backward, my messenger bag falling from my shoulder and spilling open its contents.

Before I could curse, I looked up at the idiot who had run into me and my tongue went numb.

"G-Godric," I finally stammer, his face full of concern. He dropped to his haunches and began gathering up the papers that had fallen out of my messenger bag, his eyes finally meeting mine.

I sucked in a breath, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wasn't…I'm not feeling well, and…"

"I was hoping I would run into you again," he said with a small tilt of his lips, "Although I hadn't imagined that it would be quite so…literal."

And the way he says 'literal' makes my dick stir and I gain control of my limbs again and I go to grab the stack of papers from his hands, but when our skin touches and I feel hot I get nervous and nearly drop my sketch pad, the pages fluttering as nervously as I feel. One sketch falls out, dropping to the floor between us like a leaf in the fall.

I stare down at it, my heart pounding. Jesus, of all the sketches to fall, why this one?

Godric bends down to retrieve it, his blue eyes flickering over it in interest while I blush and try to stammer something but it's incoherent and instead of facing my shame I mumble, "I have to go" and turn tail in the hallway, leaving Godric in the dust.

Or so I thought.

In my haste and embarrassment, I almost run into another blue-haired male that has constantly been on my mind. He quirks his eyebrow at me, looking down at me saying, "Oi, why'd you bolt out of class like a bat outta' hell?"

I'm bitter at Grimmjow and I'm embarrassed with my encounter with Godric, so I shake my head to try and clear it but it isn't working and I let out a small whine.

"Just leave me alone," I say, shoving past him.

He grabs my arm at the elbow hard enough to jolt me back, and now I feel trapped by his unreadable eyes and Godric is now standing with us, the sketch in one of his hands. He puts his hand on Grimmjow's wrist, the one that's currently keeping me in place.

"Grimmjow, you're hurting him," he says quietly. I watch their nearly identical eyes process each other and something unspoken passes between them and then suddenly I'm free, my skin throbbing where Grimmjow had grabbed me so carelessly.

"Are you alright?" Godric asks and I can't even make eye contact I'm so embarrassed.

I start rubbing my throbbing arm, my face and neck on fire, "I'm fine."

"I didn't grab him that hard," Grimmjow mumbles, arms folded over his chest.

"It might bruise. You forget your own strength, Grimm," Godric says, folding the sketch in half and holding it out towards me, "This is very good. Please finish it."

I gape at him, my mouth hanging open wide enough to catch flies. Who were these twins? I didn't know what to think about them at all. One was a complete sadistic, manipulative bastard while the other was charming, polite, and caring. It made my head spin.

I reach out to accept the sketch, but Grimmjow is faster.

He opens it and stares at it, his face immediately turning into a shit-eating smirk, "I knew it. You're a shitty liar, Ichigo."

"It's just a drawing!" I exclaim, taking it from his hands in a wild snatch, "I like drawing people. Leave me alone."

"Grimmjow, you're being a bully," Godric stated.

"And you're being a pussy," Grimmjow shot back, one of his hands taking hold of Godric's wrist, "So is Kurosaki. This secret crush bullshit makes me sick."

I'm still staring at the way Grimmjow's hand is possessively over Godric's wrist and I wonder…I wonder…certain things that aren't all that appropriate for brothers, especially twins.

He starts dragging Godric away, Godric's eyes straying back to me. Godric takes the sketch out of Grimmjow's hand, passing it back to me before he's too far away for me to reach.

"See you around, Ichigo," he says, finally breaking Grimmjow's hold on his wrist, "I hope we, well, run into each other again."

I hear Grimmjow snort and watch Grimmjow push Godric in the shoulder. They disappear down the hallway and I stare stupidly down at the large sketch of Godric seated at a piano. I begin folding it up again to stick in my bag when I realize there's pen marking that wasn't there before.

Black ink constructs a phone number written in a slanted, elegant script in the top corner.

I breathe in deeply through my nose for several minutes before placing the sacred treasure in my bag and making my way back to my dorm where my dreams are filled with long, slender fingers and blue eyes.

…..

A couple days later, I can't sleep again. I keep staring at the sketch of Godric I pinned next to my bed, the foreign phone number drilled through my mind so many times I've already memorized it by heart.

Of course, I still haven't called.

Next to the sketch is a rough graphite sketch of his twin. Grimmjow's eyes bore into mine, the set of his mouth determined, the way he looks at most people, even those in authority. Another sketch is taped beside that one, this one an attempt to capture the twins together, that moment in the hallway where Grimmjow grabbed his younger twin's wrist in a show of dominant male possession.

I shiver.

Unable to sleep, I stare at the sketches until I feel myself grow aroused.

I kick my sheets off, my body hot and beginning to sweat. I take a cold shower before I lose my mind.

…

"Oh. My. Gosh," the short, black-haired male gushed from the opposite end of the hallway. I didn't know much about the short annoying male other then the fact that he was flamboyantly gay and many mistook him for a girl. I was sitting against the wall of the hallway, a textbook open in my lap, trying to finish a chapter for another class before the class I was waiting for began. It was still early, at least twenty minutes before anybody would go into the lecture classroom. Several other students were reading quietly or bopping to headphones, but I was immediately distracted by the high voice of Luppi. Or at least, I was pretty sure that was his name.

I stared down the hallway, curious, my breath tight in my chest as I watched Grimmjow stand next to him, his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed as Luppi gushed on and on about Grimmjow's work.

"I'm not in the art studio often, but I saw a painting in there and sensei told me it was your unfinished work. It was epic," he giggles, hugging his textbooks to his chest. In that moment I can't help but hate him for his cuteness. He was usually a snide ass hole, always jibing people and giving them a reason to want to beat him up, but today he was being extremely friendly and adorable.

I didn't like it.

"You a painter?" Grimmjow asked, seeming at ease talking to the annoying little prick. His eyebrow was quirked, like he was trying to figure out what Luppi wanted.

Luppi made an exaggerated noise through his nose, "Absolutely not. I'm a singer; classically trained. In fact, I met your brother Godric the other day in the music hall."

I hadn't even realized my hands had clenched into fists. Luppi's voice was becoming huskier by the second, and I didn't like it. Not one bit.

"You're both gorgeous," Luppi continued with a giggle, "and both extremely talented. My sensei told me that Godric could very well be a musical prodigy."

"He is," Grimmjow said, his voice sounding matter of fact. I couldn't help but sense the pride behind the words; he wasn't in competition with his brother. I don't know what made me think I could read him so easily, but the way he spoke of his brother only confirmed that they were a lot closer then I had originally believed.

"Where are you two from? They must grow prodigies there or something. You just recently transferred to Karakura, right?" he said, flipping his hair with a small white hand. Sometimes the kid could be so girly.

Grimmjow looked unimpressed, "We were born here. Raised in Europe."

"Oh? Anywhere in particular? I've always wanted to go to Paris," Luppi said, putting his hands together like it was a dream come true.

"Fuck France. I fuckin' hated it there. We grew up in Germany. Travelled a lot."

"Where?"

"Does it really matter?" Grimmjow said with a sigh, running a hand through his thick blue locks.

"Yes! Come on, I've never left the country," Luppi cried, turning on puppy dog eyes.

Grimmjow grunted, "Our parents kept summer residences in Sweden and Denmark, mostly, but Germany was always our home. Until now."

"Do you not like Japan?"

"I'm starting to," Grimmjow's eyes landed on me briefly. I looked away, my face red.

"So you guys must have been really young when you left, huh?" Luppi said, taking on this nasally voice that irritated me.

"We don't remember Japan. We were too young, but our mother insisted we learn the language. Our father insisted we be educated in as many languages as possible for business."

"Wow. You guys are so, like, cultured."

Grimmjow shrugged.

"So, like, why did you come back?"

"It's complicated," is all he said before there was snickering laughter from some boys who had just entered through the glass doors closest to Grimmjow and Luppi. I recognized the redheaded leader covered in tattoos, Renji Abarai, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. I remembered a time when we were in middle school together and had been as thick as thieves, but we'd gone to separate high schools, resulting in this hey-I-kind-of-know-you-but-not-really routine. We usually nodded to each other or showed some sign of acknowledgment when we would run into each other in the art building, but other then that, we didn't interact too much.

And it made me nervous with the way he was smiling at Grimmjow.

"So it's true, huh? You being a fairy, I mean," Renji said with a sadistic smirk, "Is that how you got the scholarship, faggot? Sucking the board members' cocks?"

I watched Grimmjow's face for signs of anger, of rage, but none came. Instead, a smirk slower than molasses began to form on his face, revealing sharp canines.

"I didn't ask for a fucking scholarship. The international exchange program found my work in a gallery in Munich and offered me a full-ride to attend this piss-ass excuse for a university that you had to work your ass off to get into. If anything, Red, they sucked MY cock."

He took a few steps forward, now standing directly in front of Abarai, his blue eyes looking down at the slightly shorter redhead.

Renji snorted, "How fucking convenient for you and your faggot twin. What about him, huh? Heard he's got magic fingers..."

My eyes widened as I watched Grimmjow's free hand shoot out, grabbing Renji's crotch in a vice-like grip that made Renji's face contort in discomfort and surprise. I winced as I heard Renji yelp as Grimmjow's grip tightened, barely making out Grimmjow's words due to the volume of Renji's cussing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite hear you," Grimmjow stated, his hand still in place, his eyes lit with danger even though his face looked amused, "You better watch what comes out of that perky little mouth of yours, Red, or I'll put it to better use."

"Jesus, man! Lemme go!" Renji growled, grabbing at Grimmjow's wrist to no avail. Grimmjow must have jerked his hand because Renji yelped again and I felt my own balls tingle at the thought of the pain Renji was currently in.

Grimmjow's face was no longer smiling, his eyes heated, "Now, how about an apology?"

"Fuck you!"

"I do the fucking," Grimmjow said evenly before saying, "I wanna hear 'I'm sorry' or I'm gonna make sure your useless dick turns purple. You want kids, don't you?"

"Goddamn it, I'm sorry, alright? Fuck!" Renji spat, falling backwards as Grimmjow finally released him.

"Apology accepted."

"Fucking freak!" Renji bellowed, throwing himself at Grimmjow, fists swinging.

I continued to stare, completely entranced as Renji landed a decent upper hook on Grimmjow, enough to split his lip and make it bleed.

My spine tingled at Grimmjow's laughter. I had never heard it before.

He grazed his knuckles across his split lip, a bit of blood marring the Latin word tattooed directly beneath his thumb and stretching to his ring finger. It was identical to the one on his brother's hand.

Grimmjow licked the blood from his knuckles, making me suck in a breath. Shit. I was glad I had worn loose-fitting jeans today. Grimmjow ran his tongue over the split part of his lip before smiling wickedly at Renji, Renji now being held back by two of his friends that had come in with him.

Grimmjow's eyes danced as he addressed an irritated Renji, "You know that's like foreplay to me, right?"

…..

"What the fuck was his problem?" I managed to voice after class. Grimmjow had chosen to sit next to me, although we obviously hadn't had a chance to chat during the lecture.

Grimmjow looked at me like he hadn't been listening, "Hmm?"

I sighed, "Why did Renji antagonize you like that? Do you guys even know each other?"

Grimmjow smirked, "Wha, Red? Somethin' like that."

I stared at him, waiting. He finally chuckled and picked up his notebook as we filed out of the room, "He's the kid that pissed me off in painting class. Ya know, the ass hole who made me slash his canvas. He's lucky I didn't slash his fucking balls."

The news made me laugh almost hysterically, which I don't think either of us counted on.

"Hey."

"What?" I answered.

"We're going to a party."

I raise my pierced eyebrow, "Oh really? And since when do you dictate where I go and what I do, exactly?"

I hate Grimmjow's knowing smile, "Since the minute 'ya met me."

"Cocky, man. Real cocky."

"Yeah. Twelve inches of cocky," he shot back, his hand disappearing into my jean's pocket and retrieving my phone. He immediately began typing away on it, leaving me flustered and slightly aroused, my heart banging in my throat.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Storing my number, seeing as you're a pussy and won't call my brother," Grimmjow said, clicking several more buttons before smiling at the screen and handing it back to me, "That's my number, my personal number. Give that to anybody and I'll rip you a new ass hole."

"Why…what?"

"How else are 'ya gonna know where the party is? I'll text you the directions later."

"W-wait, what about…"

"An old family friend who's happy we're back in town," Grimmjow said with excited eyes, "Haven't seen that bastard since our stint in Russia two years ago. Besides, he's my dealer while I'm forced to live in this hellhole, and his boyfriend has amazing taste in music. You'll love it."

"Great. More drugs and strangers I don't know."

"Suck it up, Kurosaki."

….

I did. I went back to my dorm room and showered and scrubbed and lathered and shaved and by the time I was dry and digging through my closet, I felt I had completely gone and started acting like a lovesick teenage girl.

Understandable. Two hot and ridiculously-talented twins with completely opposite personalities were going to be at this little get together and I would be damned if I didn't look my best.

I decided on a clean plain white polo and jeans before gelling my hair and putting on the silver watch with the black face I had gotten for my birthday last year from my old man. After a spray of cologne that was somewhat fruity, I deemed myself presentable.

I was beginning to worry when I still hadn't received a text, and then it hit me.

Grimmjow gave me his number, but I hadn't given him mine.

Without really thinking about it, I picked up my phone and composed a message.

_**OI, WHERE'S THIS PARTY AT, ASS HOLE?**_

I waited. I stared at my cell phone as if it were my saving grace, beating myself up on the inside for caring so much whether he replied instantly or not. It was GRIMMJOW, for Kami's sake. Of course he'd take his sweet ass time and make me work for it.

It only made me fall for him more.

I turned on my tiny television and began to watch an old anime re-run around seven o'clock and waited.

And waited. And waited.

I looked at my watch. 11:02 p.m.

Right when I was about to start cussing aloud, my phone vibrated with an incoming text:

_**WHAT DORM YOU IN?**_

I quickly typed in the name of my dorm building, having forgotten that I had no real means of going to a party without transportation. I didn't have a car considering I could walk just about anywhere I needed to go for school or pleasure, so the prospect that Grimmjow was going to pick me up made me feel a bit crazy.

Shit. He'd done it on purpose, hadn't he? He'd probably figured that I didn't have a car, so putting his number in my phone under the pretense that I'd need 'directions' was a total setup. And I had fallen for it: hook, line and sinker.

Sometimes I wondered if I was mentally incompetent.

My phone vibrated again:

**_COME OUTSIDE._**

I grabbed my keys and threw on a pair of white Keds, locking my door behind me and taking the elevator with a sense of dread even though butterflies rocked inside my stomach like it was homecoming.

I walked through the lobby with impatience, making my way outside and spotting him almost instantly, leaning up against the side of a sleek black Jaguar, his aviators over his eyes even thought it was fucking nearly midnight, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He stubbed it out, nodding his head towards his car, "Get in, ass hole."

"Shut the fuck up," I replied, getting in anyway. The car looked brand new, the interior leather smooth against my skin. Grimmjow blasted the air conditioning and cranked the stereo system. I smelled the fumes coming from the air vents and wrinkled my brow.

"What'd you do? Smoke the car out before you got here?" I said, unable to help wrinkling my nose.

"Uh, yeah," Grimmjow said, digging in the central compartment and pulling out a bag of weed bigger than my fist. It was green and orange with little hairs all over it and I wrinkled my nose again, but the smell was actually growing on me and becoming pleasant. It was herbal, after all.

"I was wonderin' how long it would take 'ya to text me," Grimmjow said with a shake of his head as he typed something really quick into his own cell phone, "You're not too bright, are you?"

"Shut up."

Grimmjow shrugged, "Party didn't start 'til ten anyway. Only noobs show up on time, yeah?"

"Whatever."

"Don't be a bitch. The night's just gettin' started."

And with that, Grimmjow cranked the stereo and peeled out, making my gut clench. A part of me already knew I didn't want the night to end.

….

Grimmjow parked in front of what I could only describe as a small castle. The yard was sprawling, the house itself three stories with white columns supporting the front of the structure and a side panel that even looked like a castle tower. The driveway was already filled with cars and many had already begun to park in the grass. Several girls were talking outside, wearing short skirts and heels, beer cans in their hands. As soon as I got out of the car, I could hear the music, the bass nearly shaking my body already and we weren't even in the house yet. Whoever this 'friend' of Grimmjow's was, he was fucking loaded. We were in one of the richest areas of Karakura: only politicians and CEOs could afford the sprawling digs in this area.

"Let's go," Grimmjow said with a tilt of his head, his glasses having been abandoned in the car. I hadn't even noticed he was wearing black jeans and a plain baby blue t-shirt, his tattoos seeming even brighter with the difference in color. I followed him inside, trying not to drool all over myself.

The place seemed so big on the outside, but on the inside, it was crowded enough with people that I felt as if it was a smaller house. The ceilings were high and vaulted and everything was glaringly white like the outside. The floors were smooth marble and everywhere I looked I felt as if I was breathing sophisticated expensive air. It was just one of those kinds of houses. The living room had been rearranged, a professional DJ booth set up strategically to make best use of the space and the gigantic speakers and subwoofers. A tall, slender man with slitted eyes was at the turntables, spinning a dubstep remix that had my ears rattling in excitement. Grimmjow hadn't been kidding when he'd said the friend's boyfriend had good taste.

A lot of people were already dancing, holding their drinks in one hand or were already grinding on their chosen partners for the evening. The lights were dimmed down, some strobe lights having been set up in different corners of the large room. We weaved our way through the throngs of partiers towards the large kitchen, which had glass French doors opened to show a sprawling back patio. A few people were out there, sitting and drinking or smoking a cigarette while some girls lounged in the large pool that had different colored balloons floating on the surface. A buffet had been set up out here, smelling amazing while two older looking people in white outfits were putting out more platters of food, obviously a catered kind of event.

"Oi, fuck face," Grimmjow called, suddenly jumping on somebody I didn't know without any warning. The man was tall, maybe an inch taller than Grimmjow, his brown hair in wavy locks down to his shoulders, his large grey eyes looking lazy and hazed from too much weed.

"Wondering when you were going to show up," he drawled, his voice deep and sexy. His eyes traveled over me after he'd rustled Grimmjow's hair, Grimmjow slapping his hand out of the way and laughing something in a language I didn't know.

The man replied in the language before he held out a hand to me, "Starrk Coyote. Welcome to my home."

I stared at him with bugged out eyes. This guy didn't look a day over twenty-four: how the hell did he afford such a place? Was he one of those trust fund babies I'd heard so much about?

"I'm Kurosaki Ichigo. Your house is amazing, by the way," I blabbed, looking for something to say to dispel the awkwardness I knew was coming.

"Thank you. Gin remodeled it last summer. Before that, it wasn't nearly so…poetic," Starrk said with a smirk before waving his hand towards the buffet, "I don't know about you guys, but I've got the munchies like crazy. Let's feast."

"Fuck yeah," Grimmjow breathed, heading towards the table of food before Starrk or I had even taken another step.

Starrk stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, making me look up at him with confusion.

"You still have time to back out, you know?" he said, his eyes testing me. It wasn't threatening in any way, but I still felt apprehensive with his large hand on my shoulder.

I took a step back, "What?"

Starrk shook his head, chuckling under his breath, "They're my oldest friends. I know Grimmjow too well, and I know that he's very good at breaking things."

Before I could ask him what he meant, he called over to Grimmjow and joined him in the line of food, both of them making mountains on their plates while Grimmjow talked animatedly with his friend he hadn't seen in two years. It was almost strange seeing him so…normal. He wasn't being overly abrasive or confrontational; he was just…having fun with an old friend. And that threw me off, almost as much as Starrk and his all-knowing gaze.

Suddenly I wasn't so hungry anymore.

…

Over an hour later I'm getting hammered and the rest of the party guests are even worse. The DJ, Starrk's boyfriend who I remember to have a G name (what was up with all the G names? They seemed to be popping up everywhere) eventually relinquished his position and handed it off to a Goth boy with a 69 tattooed on his face. I snorted when I saw that: he must be a sex addict or something.

"I think that kid is a sex addict," I say aloud to nobody in particular, well past my tenth beer.

"What kid?" Grimmjow said, striking with his pool stick and sinking the final solid he needed to win the game. Starrk groaned in defeat, handing his pool stick off to the next party guest that wanted to play. Grimmjow slid next to me on the couch, watching where I was pointing.

Grimmjow barked with laughter, taking my nearly-finished beer out of my hand, "I think ya've had enough for one party, Kurosaki."

I take it back forcefully, a scowl on my face, "Don't take shit that don't belong to you, ass hole."

Starrk grinned, "I like this kid. He's got spunk, Grimm."

"Fuck you," Grimmjow shot back even though he was smiling.

"Only I'm allowed to do that," the silver-haired DJ said, sliding his arms around Starrk's waist and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey baby," Starrk rumbled, returning the kiss before motioning with his free hand towards Ichigo, "Kurosaki, this is my boyfriend, Gin. Gin, this is that Kurosaki kid Grimmjow and Godric are fighting over."

"Mah mah," Gin said, opening his pale blue eyes after taking a sip from Starrk's beer, "How does it feel to be fought over by twins?"

I'm burning red at this point and everybody laughs. I don't. I'm too embarrassed.

"Last time I checked, we weren't fighting over him," Grimmjow said matter-of-factly as he leered at me, "I already told him I'm willing 'ta share."

I didn't know which 'him' Grimmjow was referring to, me or Godric, but it still got me worked up. I punched him hard in the shoulder before standing up, taking a moment to gain my balance, "Fuck you, Grimmjow."

"Ain't never gonna happen," he sassed back, but by that time, I was already making my way through the dancing drunk legions, trying to keep one foot in front of the other.

Fuck Grimmjow. I didn't need his bullshit. I was trying to have a good time, and he was ruining my nice buzz. I couldn't remember the last time I had drank this much and even though I didn't want to admit it, it was beginning to affect my motor functions.

I wanted to get away from the throbbing bass for a while, so I made my way up the flight of stairs and veered off into one of the amazing bathrooms, washing my face repeatedly with cold water and taking a piss.

I looked in the mirror, feeling my stomach sink. It wasn't like I could leave, either. Grimmjow had been my ride, and there was no way I could afford a taxi this far away from campus. I didn't have much cash on me in the first place, and walking would just be nonsensical suicide.

Somebody opened the bathroom door, two girls stumbling in giggling maniacally. One of them looked at me, her pupils wide, her smile wider, "Heyyy, do I know you from somewhere?"

"Nope. Don't think so," I say back, hoping I'm not slurring.

The other girl is laughing as she takes a seat on the toilet, her legs splayed wide. If I was into girls, I'd probably be one of those jerks that take advantage of her incredible inebriation, but since I'm not, I ignore her as the other girl continues to talk to me.

"You wanna E with us?" she says, putting a pill in my hand. How it came to be outstretched in front of me in the first place I will never know.

"Looks like you girls are already."

They both giggle but the girl insists I take it, and a crazy part of me thinks that, yeah, why not? It's a party, it's the weekend, and I'll show Grimmjow. I'll show him I can let loose and have a good time and not be uptight. I _can_ be free and uncaring and crazy sometimes. _Why not?_

Before the pill reaches my lips, the bathroom door opens again, making me drop the small pill on the floor.

I stare helplessly, his blue eyes on mine.

"G-Godric."

**Reviews would be appreciated as I am still uncertain with how everyone feels towards this OC. I actually had to cut this chapter in half, as it was much too long, so the next chapter will be up hopefully tomorrow. Thanks guys for your support! :) ~TPP**


	3. Slate of Hand

**-Knocking on an Open Door-**

Chapter Three: Face Card

...

Godric is staring at me, his blue hair tame in comparison to his twin's. He's dressed in dark jeans and a starched white button shirt, the first few buttons undone at the collar, exposing creamy skin with the black permanent ink of a collar tattoo. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, his tattooed hand on the knob as he regards me and the situation I am suddenly ashamed of.

Getting high in a bathroom with two drunken girls is not exactly how I wanted one of my crushes to find me.

"Godric," I breathe, smiling like an idiot. The alcohol is really hitting me now. I don't remember Grimmjow saying he would be here, although obviously I had suspected it. It was really late. Was he just now arriving to the party?

"Shit, you're really hot," the coherent girl croons, walking towards him sloppily and almost falling. The other girl is giggling while she sits on top of the toilet, seemingly unable to control her basic motor functions.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that this bathroom was…occupied," he said, his eyes traveling over the two drunken girls with what was barely-disguised pity before he looks directly into my eyes.

"I was…I wasn't," I say stupidly, staring down at my empty hands, suddenly glad he hadn't witnessed me taking the pill, "I wasn't really gonna do it."

"Are you alright?" he said, still staring at me as the other girl finally got off the toilet and was trying to brace herself against her other friend who was leaning over the sink now.

"I don't want to be here," I say, leaning against the wall.

"No, I suppose not," he said with a small smirk, holding out his hand and taking my wrist, "Come on. You can rest over here."

I nod repeatedly, letting him lead me. I'm embarrassed at how drunk I am, but no matter how much I try to control myself, a part of my brain is fuzzed over and I know I look like a complete fool in front of the one guy I've always wanted to impress.

He leads me up another flight of stairs and down a carpeted hallway, opening one of the two doors. I stare at the room that is reminiscent of a den, the thick white carpet under my feet feeling soft (when the hell had I taken my shoes and socks off?) and the furniture just as white as the walls.

"Starrk and Gin must really have a thing for white," I sigh as I slump onto what I think is called a duvet. The fire in the fireplace is behind glass and I have a sneaking suspicion that it's one of those fake fires that you get with the flick of a switch. I can still hear the music but it's much quieter in here and I notice that Godric has taken a seat on the white leather couch across from me, documents spread out in front of him on a glass coffee table.

"Why are you working at a party?" I ask, trying to keep my eyes open.

He sighs, "We've been staying here since we moved back, just until the renovations are complete at our penthouse. I got tired of the party, so I came up here to make sure I signed everything properly before Grimmjow and I move in officially next week."

"You've been…staying here?"

Godric nodded, "Starrk is our oldest friend. Our parents were best friends, ran in similar business and social circles. When his mother died, Starrk's father wanted to come back to their homeland. That was two years ago. When Grimmjow and I decided to attend Karakura University, we knew that it would be a good opportunity to unite with our old friend once again."

"So that's why you came back? Friendship?" I sounded much too cynical even to my own ears, but hopefully I'd pass out and think all this was a dream and not worry about making an ass of myself in the morning.

"That's one reason," Godric said, stacking up the papers into a neat pile, "The other was to…get away. Be on our own for a while. Our parents…well, they're very…traditional."

"Hm?" I say, curling up on my side.

Godric ran a hand through his tame hair, making me smile. Grimmjow had the same habit.

"Our father is a very influential businessman. He owns several extremely profitable businesses across Europe and Asia. He met my mother when he was trying to expand one of his company's branches here in Japan. She is from old money, a very distinguished family that believes in marriage as a means of political and monetary gain."

The smile was sad to me, but I let him continue, "Grimmjow and I were born soon after here in Japan, but my father had responsibilities in Germany that he could not step away from. My mother agreed to go with him. We were given nannies and the most expensive tutors one could afford; we were presented at banquets and balls and were our father's pride and joy: with us, he felt as if the world was his for the taking. His companies were expanding, the revenue streams growing steadily every year, and he had not only one but two male heirs to succeed him."

I sat up, completely focused on what Godric was saying, my alcohol-muddled brain trying it's damndest to listen and soak in everything he was saying, "Too bad for him that neither my brother nor I were interested in his politics. Neither of us wanted to inherit the suits and decorum of the business world that had corrupted our parents to their very cores. Our mother was as cold as ice after years of living away from her home and being denied a proper family while our father continued to threaten us about our inheritance. My brother was a brilliant artist, one of the greatest painters I had ever seen. I'd always had an inclination towards music. Of course our parents allowed us tutors for these strengths, but they were always considered hobbies or a means to pass the time. My brother and I grew stronger in our convictions that we would not inherit our father's empire. Things only got worse."

"That's…I can't even imagine that."

Godric looked at me with his deep blue eyes, making my heart stutter in my chest, "I'm glad my brother and I decided to come back to Japan."

"Me too," I blurt, thinking about how comfortable I am lying here right now. Godric smiles at me and it's then that I realize he seems so far away.

"I'm sorry," I say aloud, surprised at even myself.

He tilts his head, regarding me, "You're sorry? What could you possibly have to apologize for?"

"I never called you. I…I draw you. How creepy is that? I draw you all the time. You have the most amazing hands. I think…I think I could watch you play piano forever," my eyes are fluttering at this point as I try to force myself to stay awake. I'm rambling, and I know it, but I don't care, "You're just…perfect, you and Grimmjow, and, and every time you see me I'm…I'm doing something stupid, like just now, in the bathroom. I wasn't doing anything with them. I don't even like girls."

I didn't know he had moved, but in the next moment I feel one of his hands sliding through my hair, and I wish I was a cat so that I could purr it feels so good. I sigh contentedly, allowing him to continue his ministrations as I finally allow my eyes to close for good.

"We are far from perfect, Ichigo," he says in a low timbre. My eyes flutter open again to see his face, his breath warm on my face, the scent making my mind go more blank then the alcohol coursing through my veins, "We're damned, through and through, and yet here you are."

I lift my hand and manage to latch it on to the wrist of the hand that has been stroking my head, "I'm not going anywhere."

I feel his warm lips press against my temple. I let out a raspy breath at the contact before darkness pulls me under.

…

I shift in the gray light, my head pounding and my mouth dry.

I stretch my legs and my arms, realizing that I am far too comfortable and that there is warmth on either side of me.

I'm lying on my back. The next thing I register is that whatever I am lying on is softer then a cloud and as smooth as silk. A bed? I run my hand over my stomach. Still clothed. That's good. I shift my head to the side and nearly scream.

Grimmjow's lying to my right on his stomach, his head tilted towards me. I can smell the strong whiskey on his breath from the night before, his hair even more bedraggled then I'm used to seeing.

My internal panicking is only getting worse as I turn my head to the other side and take in Godric, who manages to look just as gorgeous in sleep as he does in his waking hours. His hair is much longer than Grimmjow's, trailing across his shoulders and onto the pillow. He is also sleeping on his stomach, which I find completely adorable that the twins even have similar sleeping habits. I myself can only sleep on my back or my side. For a moment I'm envious of them, but then I remember that I'm currently in bed with twins I have been in love with since the moment I laid eyes on them and I have no idea how or when I had found myself in such a situation.

I shifted again, trying not to draw attention to myself in my attempts to crawl out of the bed. There was a headboard but thankfully no footboard so that I would be able to shimmy out from between the two delectable twins. I crawled as silently as I could, trying my damndest not to cause too much of a stir.

Grimmjow grunted and I froze, tilting my head in his direction to see if I had indeed been found out.

Instead, Grimmjow shifted, moving closer to his brother. I watched, transfixed, as his arm wrapped protectively around Godric's middle before his breathing evened out again. Godric hadn't stirred in the slightest, dead to the world. I would have thought with how the night had gone, it would be the other way around. As far as I could remember, Godric hadn't even had anything to drink.

Or maybe I myself had been too drunk to take proper notice.

My bare feet finally met plush carpet and I backed away towards the wall, my eyes still settled on Grimmjow and Godric. I lifted a hand to my nose, fearing a nosebleed. Grimmjow, apparently, slept only in his boxers, which was made evident to me as he mumbled and shifted again, effectively aligning his body beside his brother's. Godric's shirt was still on but it was twisted to reveal most of his tanned back which I noticed housed a few long, jagged scars. They looked to be years old due to the color, but the scars were quickly forgotten as Godric shifted in the bed as well, nudging his head against Grimmjow's chest.

I didn't dare breathe, frozen against the wall for what felt like eternity but couldn't have been more than five or six minutes. When I was completely certain, I moved towards the plain white bedroom door and crept my way out.

Heading down the hallway silently and down the stairs, I remembered most of the night before now, my face reddening at the memory of Grimmjow kissing me. Well, on the temple, but still.

I was jarred back to the present when my feet hit the cold marble of the main floor. I followed my nose, something hot and delicious making my stomach churn as I realized how hungry I was.

"Heyya," Gin said with a wide smirk when I entered the large kitchen. He looked unusually chipper, wearing something casual with a black apron that said 'Kiss the Cook' in white block lettering, "Looks like, uh, somebody had a good time last night, ne?"

I ran my hands over my face several times, rubbed my eyes, then looked at Gin again, "Wha?"

He chuckled, "I'm finishing up the pancakes. Why don't'cha go get a seat on the patio? There's orange juice."

I nodded mutely as he turned his back to me and went back to flipping pancakes. My mouth watered as I stepped out onto the patio and saw the small breakfast feast awaiting me on the glass table. Starrk sat at the head of the table, small reading glasses on the bridge of his nose, a white coffee cup in his hand as he looked at the newspaper in his lap.

His eyes settled on me as I pulled a whicker chair out and took a seat not too far away from him, a small smile on his lips, "Good afternoon, Ichigo."

"Hai, good after…" I stopped, rubbing my face again before noticing how bright the sunlight was, "A-afternoon?"

Starrk chuckled again before looking at the expensive silver watch on his wrist, "A quarter past three. Never too late for breakfast."

"I can't believe it," I groaned at the same time Gin joined us on the patio with a platter of pancakes.

"Well don't just sit there. Grub up," Gin said, beginning to stack his own plate.

I didn't even know where to start: everything looked so damn good. I took a hardboiled egg before grabbing a muffin and four pancakes. We ate in companionable silence before Gin finally cleared his throat.

"So, uh, Ichigo, how was your…evenin'?"

I didn't like the smirk he was giving me. It sent chills down my spine, "What're you talking about? The last thing I remember was…uh…" I trailed off, my face turning red as I remembered Godric's lips against my temple. I was even more embarrassed when I remembered what I had said to him, how I had blabbed everything. I really did have the biggest mouth when I was drunk.

"I'm assuming you and the twins had a little bit of fun time," Starrk said nonchalantly, flipping a page of the newspaper before pouring syrup on his mountain of pancakes, "Considering you're not fully clothed. I'm a fan of Don Kanonji myself."

I blanch as I look down, noticing I am, in fact, sporting my favorite pair of orange Don Kanonji boxers, his laughter ripping across most of the fabric in bold black lettering, his creepy mustached face almost directly over my left pelvic bone.

I slam my head against the table in defeat as Starrk and Gin continue with their laughter.

….

After the amazing breakfast and a few more laughs at my expense, I help the couple clean up the dishes and put away the leftovers before they gratuitously offer me a chance at a hot shower and a fresh change of clothes. With how I was feeling, there was no way I was going to turn such an offer down.

I used one of their guest bathrooms, avoiding the third floor at all costs. None of us had heard a peep from them and there was no way I was going to risk running into them when I didn't even know how we had come to be sleeping all together like that in the first place.

It made me jumpy. It made me excited.

I scrubbed my body down then just simply enjoyed the hot water before finally getting out and toweling off. Gin had offered me one of his plain white t-shirts and a pair of jeans. Thankfully we were about the same size so the pants actually fit me well, although the shirt was a bit tight.

When I exited the bathroom, still toweling my hair, I felt eyes on me.

I turned to stare down the hallway.

Grimmjow stood in nothing but royal blue boxers, his chest chiseled to perfection from years of what I could only assume was intense fitness training, maybe even martial arts. His face was blank, like he wasn't fully functioning yet. I could relate.

"Where's Gin?" he mumbled, running his hands over his face before scratching at his abdomen. My eyes settled on the long, jagged scar that was the only thing marring the perfection of his chest, although to me, it only made him sexier.

It made me remember the scars on Godric's back, and my eyebrows drew together.

"Don't know. We just finished breakfast a while ago," I said, forcing my eyes to meet his. Anything to take my mind off of his body.

"I need tacos," he said.

"Well. That makes sense."

He grunted, passing me, "You didn't drink as much as I did. Nobody ever drinks as much as I do."

"You're the king."

"Damn right."

I watched him descend the stairs before making my way to the third floor. I couldn't just leave my pants (wherever they may be) lying around Starrk's immaculate home. I opened the door to the room I had snuck out of that morning tentatively, taking a quick sweep of the room before opening the door completely and walking inside. After a minute of rutting, I found my jeans balled up under a chair by the bed. Still confused as to how they had come off in the first place, I folded them repeatedly in my arms until they were a small bundle.

I heard a door open and shifted, wishing I hadn't.

Kami was seeing fit to give me a heart attack before my twenty-second birthday.

Godric had just stepped out of what I assumed to be the en-suite bathroom, his hair dripping wet just barely past his shoulders, nothing but a towel wrapped precariously around his hips. The towel was so low, in fact, I internally drooled over the sharp peaks of his pelvic bone, wondering how the twins stayed in such excellent physical shape. I had taken Karate as a kid and prided myself on my muscular physique, but damn it was something else entirely when you were watching that kind of perfection on somebody else.

His blue eyes settled on me and I had the decency to look away, "Uh, hey, Godric."

"Good morning," he said, padding across the room and opening a drawer. I didn't watch him though; I was too preoccupied with the drapery used on the single window, "Or, maybe it's more appropriate to say afternoon."

I heard him shuffling through something, hoping it was pants. I was praying it was pants. The man needed to get some pants on now. For the love of Kami, please let it be pants.

"Yeah. I, uh, ran into Grimmjow in the hallway. Said he needed tacos."

Godric snorted, "The hangover cure of the kings."

I couldn't help but turn my head at the sound of his snort; it sounded just like his brother, and at that moment I had felt as if Grimmjow had been in the room and it was as if my eyes had to know that my brain was wrong.

Thankfully he was already pulling a white V-neck over his head and khaki shorts were slung low on his hips so that it avoided the embarrassment of staring at him naked.

"Hey, uh, Godric?" I started, running my hand over the back of my neck, "Um…this is gonna sound stupid, but…what happened last night?"

I waited in barely-suppressed silence as Godric finally smiled at me, "You were piss-ass drunk, and so was my brother. I moved you to the bed so that you would be more comfortable. Grimmjow insisted he join you."

My face was the color of a fire hydrant when Godric laughed. I couldn't help but stare at him at the sound: God it was beautiful. It wasn't as antagonistic as Grimmjow's laugh, but it was still distinctly Jaegerjaques. I liked how I could tell them so much apart by now.

"Don't worry. I slept on the other side of you to ensure your honor," he said, running his hands through his drying blue locks.

"Thanks. I mean it. I mean…I didn't think that anything had happened, but…it's nice to know."

Godric nodded, "Grimmjow wasn't too happy that I managed to kiss you before you passed out. He was...I think he's actually jealous."

"W-why?"

"Grimmjow's a very impulsive person. I'd assumed…well, knowing his nature I thought that he would have already tried. I'm actually shocked that I was the first to kiss you."

"But it wasn't even a real kiss," I blurted, wishing I hadn't said anything. There I go, digging holes for myself.

Godric quirked an eyebrow, reminding me all too well of Grimmjow, "Would you like to correct that?"

I swallowed, feeling especially brave, "Yes please."

He smiled at me, a brilliant smile that made my knees weak. He stepped closer to me, lifting my chin.

And the next thing I know, I'm not even of this world anymore.

It's so cliché. Fireworks. Why do people in love always see fireworks? That's bullshit. It's not like that at all. It's like fireworks are in your veins, spreading to your stomach and making lava in your gut. I'm so caught up with the thought of his lips on mine and the smell of his soap all I know is that I'm tugging on his drying hair, which feels silky soft as it slips through my fingers.

It feels as if all too soon he's pulling away from me, smirking against my lips, "Grimmjow, you're such a pervert."

I want to squeal when I realize Grimmjow is standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his eyes betraying lust.

He shrugged, "Free show, yeah?"

….

I had thought I was going to die from the awkwardness of Grimmjow witnessing my first real kiss, but he'd just walked into the bathroom and took a shower while Godric offered to give me a ride back to campus. It felt surreal, riding with Godric. For one, his car didn't wreak of marijuana and he didn't blast his music. He told me that he preferred his music at an enjoyable level. After all, he needed his eardrums in tact in order to compose music and play piano.

He dropped me off in front of my dorm, and just when I thought this dream would come to an end, he said, "Ichigo, I just want you to know that I'm serious about you."

I continued to stand still next to the white Mercedes as he looked at me pointedly from the driver's seat.

"I have feelings for you, and I believe Grimmjow does as well. I just want you to know that I love my brother enough to share him with you. I don't know how you feel about that, but…even if you don't choose me, he'll choose you."

"I don't…I don't understand," I answered truthfully, trying to understand Godric's cryptic logic, "Wha'd'you mean?"

Godric looked out the windshield for a moment before turning his attention back to me, "I won't treat you like an object to be held or coddled. You're a human being with your own thoughts and feelings. If, if our relationship makes you uncomfortable, I understand. We talked about it; we want to share you, Ichigo."

"What?"

Godric ran a hand through his hair again, "Grimmjow and I…there are a lot of reasons why we returned to Japan. Remember when I told you that our parents were very traditional?"

I nod, not sure where this is going.

"Grimmjow and I are close. Very close. Some might say that…we're too close."

My brain goes into hyper-drive, reminding me of all the times I had suspected the two of being too close. Especially after what I had witnessed this morning, I should have seen this coming a bit sooner.

"Oh," I finally say, realization dawning on me, "You…and Grimmjow…like that?"

Godric nods once, sighing, "Very few know, although we have never denied our feelings towards each other. You know how Grimmjow is: he doesn't care what anyone thinks about him, and somewhere along the line, I stopped caring as well."

I nod repeatedly. I don't know what else to do, so I nod.

"It's a lot to think about. Please call me if you need to talk about anything. Whatever you decide, whatever you think about the situation, I don't want to lose you as a friend," he said with a half smile, "Grimmjow and I are very short on friends these days."

I can't help but snort at that comment, thinking that they can attract anyone they want, make any friends they want, so why the hell did they choose me? It just seemed so unfair to the rest of the world.

I watched him drive away before going to my room and staring at the drawings on my wall for hours.

….

The next week of school was a bit strange.

Grimmjow came to class, but he never went out of his way to speak to me. He didn't sit by me, didn't stare at me. I wondered if he was angry about what Godric had said about him being jealous.

But now that I knew the truth about their…brotherly affection, perhaps he was just embarrassed.

No. This is Grimmjow we're talking about.

If he was willing to take on the world and it's judgments, there was no way he was scared of little old me.

So what, then? Maybe he was waiting for me to make a move. After all, Godric had pretty much left the field wide open for me to make the decision. Maybe Grimmjow was actually following his brother's wishes for once? It still seemed unlikely; Grimmjow was such an impulsive person: he was like wind, or a hurricane. He didn't stop to dote or reason on anyone, so why did it feel as if he wasn't even here?

I'll admit I was too afraid to find out for myself for the rest of the week. I almost worked up the courage to talk to him after a lecture, but I chickened out at the last minute. I didn't know what to do with myself.

This was all so…bizarre.

But I couldn't deny I wanted it.

I wanted Grimmjow.

I wanted Godric.

I wanted them both.

I couldn't believe how selfish I had become.

…..

I caught him after class a full week later.

"Grimmjow," I called, resisting the urge to grab his arm to make him turn around and look at me.

He finally did, his eyes regarding me carefully, "What?"

I didn't know exactly what to say, so I tried to keep it casual, "Are you…doing anything tonight?"

"I have a painting to finish," he said, tilting his head to the side, "I'll be at the studio all night."

"I could bring food. You'll be hungry." I felt like a moron as the words left my mouth. I'd have to text Godric later. I'd been texting him almost everyday.

I wondered if Grimmjow knew.

Of course he did. Godric wouldn't hide anything from Grimmjow, I knew that.

"If you want," he said before turning his back on me.

…..

That night I bought some deli sandwiches and some sodas before making my way to the art studio. It was past ten o'clock at night, but Grimmjow had said he would be there all night, so I hadn't wanted to show up too early.

Not like I was desperate or anything.

But honestly, what did they expect? I had never been in such a situation before. It wasn't like I could just throw myself into their arms and expect everything to be perfect. I was still uncertain as to my absolute true feelings towards the twins; they were so different it was nearly maddening. They were so perfect together too: that wasn't even the issue. To be completely honest, after the initial shock wore off that the two were closer than brothers and intimately involved, I had found it incredibly hot.

Forbidden, damnable, sickening to many, but so, so hot.

And they were willing to share, so I had to be willing to share to.

But that's what scared me. I had never been in a relationship before, and now I was being offered the chance of not only one love but two. Most people didn't even have a single lover, and I would have two.

God. Two lovers? I'd never even had one. How was I supposed to handle this?

My heart was in my throat when I entered the art studio and saw that Grimmjow was working away on a massive canvas. His shirt was smeared with different shades of red and orange paint, his eyes looking almost wild as he attacked the board. He was so aggressive yet so controlled with his strokes and movements it left me jealous and breathless at the same time.

We barely spoke as I offered him the food. We ate in silence, and then he went back to painting almost immediately. I was content to watch, not sure of what to say. I didn't even know what he wanted me to say.

Grimmjow slapped his brush onto the table next to him, jolting me out of my thoughts.

"Fuck this shit," he said, turning towards me, his eyes on fire, "Tell me what the fuck you want or get the fuck out."

"What?" I was totally taken aback by the sudden assault.

"You're fucking up my concentration. It's like your crawling around in my head, laying eggs in my brain. I don't like it. It's been like this for weeks, so tell me straight up what you want or get the fuck out and don't talk to me again."

By this time he's much closer to me, barely a foot away. I feel trapped.

I don't know how wide my eyes have gone, but I feel my temper flair, "What the fuck?"

….

It was dangerous the way he was staring at me.

"Come on. You look at me with that come-fuck-me face and expect me not to notice? Are you that stupid or just naïve?"

"I do not!" I say desperately, even though on some level I don't even believe myself.

He gives me a level look, a look that makes me feel as if he's sizing me up, then he nods his head once towards the direction of the studio door, "I'm not stoppin' ya. There's the door."

I try to remember why I like him in the first place, why I'm slightly obsessed with him. The list is irrational.

He's not nice. He's barely decent. He's rude and a bit arrogant. He doesn't give a fuck about the people around him or what comes out of his mouth. He challenges authority. He doesn't give a flying fuck about impressing anyone, yet people are still entranced by his art. He's naturally talented in the field, possibly even a prodigy; never has to think hard about what he's doing. He just DOES it and it WORKS.

No consequences. No holding back. No fear. I've always wanted a piece of that life.

He's spontaneous. Original. Unique. Passionate. A tornado trapped inside a hurricane. FUCK. I WANT HIM.

"…wanna leave."

"What's that?" Grimmjow says, leaning farther into me. I can feel his warm breath on my face and I have to consciously remind my knees not to give out beneath me, "I can't hear you."

"I don't…" I begin, my hands playing with the hemline of my shirt, "…wanna leave."

He leans in, his lips nearly brushing my ear, goose bumps racing across the sensitive flesh. I don't know what he's intending to do, but I already know I'm going to let him do it.

"See how easy it is?" he says. I feel myself shiver even though he hasn't touched me, "You should never deny yourself ANYTHING."

I close my eyes for only an instant, praying that he'll touch me.

When I open my eyes, he's turned away from me, facing his massive canvas covered in varying shades of red.

He picks up a thick heavy industrial painter's brush and one of his mixing bowls, going back to work immediately, as if what he's just done to me means nothing and is of no consequence.

I slide down the wall until I'm sitting on the floor. I watch him paint under the brightly adjusted studio lighting until I fall asleep.

...


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: This story is M, Mature. I wish I could rate it R, or NC-17. I rate this for a reason. This chapter talks about some touchy subjects, and I'm not ignorant enough to believe all my readers won't be offended.**

**Sorry for the long wait. A lot of shit has been happening, and not good shit. Hope this makes up for my absence. –TPP**

...

Knocking on an Open Door

Chapter Four: Slate of Hand

...

I don't know how long I stared at my peeling ceiling.

Hours, probably. I didn't go to class the next day. I didn't feel like it.

My brain felt like it was trying to digest a giraffe. There was too much to think about.

I finally picked up my phone, staring at the screensaver. It's boring, nondescript: a snapshot of a cloud I had seen in high school. I've had the same screensaver for nearly five years. This depresses me because I realize I never change.

I keep doing things for the sake of doing things, but never do anything for ME.

I realize that a relationship, even if it looks fucked up to others, is something that I would be doing for me, for the sake of me, not for the sake of anybody else. Of course, this logic is calming me down and making me feel better about myself. For some reason I don't know how to come to terms that two boys want me, are willing to share me because I can't imagine making the choice between the two.

I like them both so much that it hurts to think of choosing just one, but it's wrong to want both, isn't it?

I deleted my screen saver before deciding to text Grimmjow.

_WHERE ARE YOU?_

I had almost fallen asleep when I felt the vibrating answer: _YOU NEED ME?_

Oh, if he only knew. _YEAH._

The next text was much faster. _10 MINUTES._

…..

I changed into a pair of mesh basketball shorts and a paint-splattered white wife beater, not even bothering to check my hair in the mirror before hoofing it out the door and waiting on a bench outside of the dorms. It was after sitting on the bench for several minutes that I even realized I wasn't wearing any shoes.

Grimmjow pulled up about twenty minutes later, rolling the passenger window down and staring at me above the rims of his aviators, "You comin' or what?"

I got up, feeling like I was walking too slowly as I got in Grimmjow's sleek car and stared out the windshield as he drove to all-fuck-what.

Several minutes of silence was punctuated with the sound of the air conditioning and some screamo I didn't recognize turned down low as he drove off campus. We ended up at a dumpy lake that was filled with more garbage then fish, but it didn't really matter where we were. The place was deserted. He parked in the grass and hopped out of the car, so I did too, leaning against the hood of his car as he stared out at the gross-looking water.

I bit my bottom lip, my arms folded over my chest as I tried to figure out what to say. What did I want to say? I didn't know how to talk about something like this with Grimmjow. It was rare that he was this quiet, this considerate. So far he hadn't said anything snarky or mean or sarcastic, and I sure as hell didn't know how to talk about having a relationship with him and his twin brother.

Especially when said twin brothers had been having a romantic relationship for who knew how long.

So I started blunt, "How long have you and Godric been together?"

Grimmjow didn't stiffen, didn't look defensive. He turned to look at me, hands in his jean pockets, the wind blowing his blue hair back off of his forehead. He looked gorgeous, dangerous. He looked away from me for a moment before looking back at me, "Since we turned sixteen. Maybe a little after that. Why?"

"How long have you…been…physical?" I choked out the words, feeling awkward, but it was something that had been bothering me and I wanted to know. I don't know why I picked Grimmjow to have this conversation with when it probably would have been one hundred times easier talking to Godric about it, but for some reason I felt like I needed Grimmjow to know that I was thinking about him.

Grimmjow looked up at the sun for a second before walking back through the grass and settling near me on the hood of his car, both of us leaning against it, staring at the trash lapping at the water's edge, "I think we were fourteen. I raped him."

I stiffened and for a moment I wished Grimmjow wasn't so blunt, "W-what?"

Grimmjow looked at me, his eyes roaming my face as if he could read my judgment on his past sins there somewhere, "I was jealous. I saw the way his piano teacher looked at him, the way he touched him…I didn't like it. I lost it. I couldn't handle thinking someone in authority could take him away from me."

"You _raped_ him," I said in indignation, feeling anger building in my gut, "There's no excuse for that, Grimmjow, not ever."

"I _know_ that," Grimmjow said heatedly, his arms now crossed over his chest, "He wouldn't come near me for months after that. He wouldn't even look at me!"

Grimmjow walked away from the car, back towards the edge of the bank, shaking his head back and forth, "I begged him to forgive me: our parents didn't know, couldn't know. Godric was so good at making people see what they wanted to see: that we were good children, good siblings, but it wasn't like that at all. I was miserable; he was hurting. I hated it."

I was furious. I was so furious I didn't even know what to do. There was nothing I could say, nothing that could justify how angry I was with Grimmjow. I couldn't picture it: I couldn't picture someone intentionally hurting Godric.

Not anybody, especially not Grimmjow.

My hands clenched, and then I was moving.

The next thing I register is my fist slamming into Grimmjow's jaw, the sound almost wet, if that makes sense. We were both sweating from the humidity and the sun, but this rage, I couldn't even see straight. He pulled on my arm before I could tuck in again, but it wasn't like I'd had a battle plan to begin with. He swung me around, slamming me onto the ground, the air leaving my lungs.

Pain blossomed in my chest, the wind literally knocked out of me by my fall. Grimmjow had his foot on top of me, over my chest. He didn't even look phased; didn't even look pissed off. In fact, his face looked so goddamn calm I wanted to punch him again.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" I managed to get out when I'd finally gasped some new air. I moaned as I tried to roll onto my side to alleviate the pressure I was feeling in my chest and abdomen, but Grimmjow's foot wouldn't budge.

"There's a lot of shit wrong with me," he growled, dropping his foot off of me, kicking at some dirt before offering me a hand, "but being a dumb ass isn't one of them."

"What are you talking about?" I wheezed as he grabbed my wrists and yanked me to a sitting position. He plopped down in the grass next to me, resting his bulking forearms on his knees.

He sighed a breath, not looking at me as he mumbled, "Reflexes."

Still clueless, I rubbed at the sore spot on my chest, "What? Not only are the Jaegerjaques richer then God, they're a secret ninja clan too?"

I yelped as he slapped me upside the back of the head, but it was too gentle to mean more then that I was being a nuisance.

And then he pulled his t-shirt up, exposing his delicious skin. I hoped my mouth wasn't open because this type of grass was renowned for gnats and I'd prefer not to have any laying eggs in my lungs. I focused on the long, deep scar that I had been wondering about.

"Our old man made sure we kept up in extracurricular activities. While you were busy snotting over your Game Boy and watching cartoons, me and Godric were being pounded into the ground with discipline and martial arts, and that was just in our spare time. If you're lucky you'll never have to see Godric when he gets angry."

He dropped his shirt again while I sulked, feeling left out, "I took karate when I was a kid. Quit before making black belt, though."

Grimmjow leaned into my neck, making me hold my breath. He breathed into my ear before whispering, "Pussy."

"Baka!" I shoved him in the shoulder while he snorted with laughter. He ruffled my hair and it felt so damn good and for a moment I forgot about how we had gone from something so bone-shattering serious to something so…strangely normal.

I sighed, my breathing now back to normal, my chest no longer hurting, and stared at a hunk of dead grass in front of me before pulling some of it up by the roots, "Grimm, I'm not okay with that."

He knew exactly what I was talking about but I didn't know what his reaction would be, so I stayed concentrated on the dirt, listening to his breathing.

"I'm not either. I still think about it," he ran a hand through his blue locks, tangling them into an even bigger mess, "He pisses me off."

That confession threw me for a loop. I blanched, biting my bottom lip, "Grimm? Maybe you don't understand the severity of…"

"He's stronger than me," he said quietly, stopping me mid-rant, "He's so fuckin' tough: never know what he's thinking until he tells me. I hate it. What I did to him…I'd never forgive me either, but he's here. With me. Now. And that's all that fuckin' matters. I don't give a shit about my pride as long as he knows that I love him. I'd die for that motherfucker, and he knows it. I know it. To everybody else, we're just brothers that are fucked in the head. I know what our parents think about us: I know what their business associates and what the world says and does, but none of it matters as long as he's with me."

I'd never heard Grimmjow sound so sincere.

Grimmjow was fucked up. He was all kinds of insane. He had deep-rooted issues, maybe even a fixation. Not only was he rude and arrogant, I had learned he could be cruel, selfish, and violent.

But here I was, sitting by his side, sweating in the heat, our knees bumped against each other, my body feeling like a livewire, our breathing in sync. I don't know how to feel about it because I know there's no going back.

In my heart I've already accepted them for who they are, even if I haven't learned every little thing about them yet, but I will. We'll get closer, get stronger, and that scares the living Kami out of me, but what else is there?

I think about the screensaver I deleted off my phone. I pull my phone out of my pocket and snap a picture of Grimm while he's staring at the water. It's a profile shot, but I don't care. This is the most serious I've ever seen him look: contemplative, almost poetic. A true artist.

Then he looks at me. I put my phone back in my pocket, embarrassed, but he's not looking at me like I'm an idiot for sneaking a picture, he's looking at me like he's about to ask me for the contract to my soul.

I guess that's all I have left to give him. He's already stolen my heart. Maybe Godric started tugging on it first, squeezing it a little, but the look Grimmjow is giving me right now is making me feel like it's already ripped from my chest.

I take another breath as he says, "I want that with you. You want that with me?"

I run my hands through my hair, a calming gesture that reminds me of my mum.

"I want both of you," I mumble, too embarrassed to look at him.

"Well fuck, we know that, baka."

His hand coasts through my hair and I can't help but instantly relax, but then he tugs on it playfully and before I can yell at him he's yanked my head back far enough for him to lean over and kiss me.

And it's hot, and it's wet, and I don't want it to stop, but we have to because, you know, we have to breathe.

He lets go of me, grinning like the cat that got the cream, the canary, and the belly rub. He growls low in his throat, and the sound is so foreign, so sexy, I gulp because I feel like his eyes are going to eat me alive.

"What?" I finally spit, getting defensive. I know my face is scowling but he simply pecks me on the lips again before sneering and standing up.

"What?" I practically snarl, goose bumps rising along my arms.

"I wanna fuck you so bad," he admonishes, but it sounds like a breathy sigh, like he forgot to add an _'oh well'_ to the end of it, "Let's go, Kurosaki."

He opens the driver's side door, already starting it up before I've slid into the passenger seat, "Wait, where?"

His grin jumpstarts my heart, "Godric."

…..

We haven't even been driving ten minutes when Grimmjow's cell phone goes off and I can't help but roll my eyes as I listen to it:

_'Bitches love me 'cuz they know that I can rock_

_Bitches love me 'cuz they know that I can rhyme_

_Bitches love me 'cuz they know that I can fuck_

_Bitches love me 'cuz they know that I'm on time…!'_

Grimmjow finally manages to fish it out of his jeans pocket, glancing at the name tagged to the caller and grinning fiercely before answering, "Well fuck, about time I heard from you, Bitch Tits!"

My eyes widened at the uncharacteristically rude greeting but the voice on the other line was filled with feminine tinkling laughter and I couldn't help but be curious as to who Grimmjow was referring to. I couldn't hear what she was saying back to him, but it made Grimmjow snort.

"As if," he said, taking a sharp turn on the road and making me want to squeal as he cut off a car that was actually going the legal speed, "Nah, I want you to. No, seriously, you'd better show up or I'll have to kick that perky lil' ass."

By this point my ears are burning. Grimmjow is just so…so…BRASH. I mean, is that charming? I can't see flattery in anything he's saying. I imagine this girl slapping him over the phone, but she's obviously playing back into the banter because Grimmjow hasn't stopped grinning or chuckling since he picked up the call.

I'm starting to get jealous. After all, Grimmjow nor Godric ever said anything about being exclusive.

Or gay, for that matter. For all I know, Grimmjow was fucking this girl on the weekends or on off weeknights when he was bored. Even though I couldn't hear much of the conversation, she must have had some kind of speech impediment because Grimmjow started teasing her.

"Yeth, thath ith correcth," he said into the receiver before pulling onto Arrancar Avenue, a business area of Karakura that was so exclusive I'd never even smelled the air before. This strip of condominiums, apartments, and hotels housed only the most filthy rich of Karakura, like business moguls and oil tyrants and CEOs of multi-billion dollar corporations. Starrk and Gin's abode would fit snugly in here, but these were newer, sleeker buildings that had just been put up and were so glaringly bright white in the sun they were nearly blinding. There was probably more glass on the fronts of these buildings then in all of the rest of Karakura combined. Posh shops and cute cafes and ridiculously chic boutiques lined either side of the avenue, not all that busy at this time of the day but everybody walking the pavement either looked like a supermodel or a business executive (or maybe a business executive's assistant, like the one who was running with multiple bags while simultaneously trying to balance a tray of coffees and lattes).

Grimm and Godric are rich. I know this, but it will take some time to adjust. I guess.

I'm still staring googley-eyed out the window when I hear Grimmjow say, "See you soon then, Bitch Tits. Yah, love you, bye."

The 'I love you' is what snaps me back into reality but I don't have the guts to ask Grimmjow who that was and we're already pulling into what looks like a car garage for the apartment complexes on the east side. Grimm lowers his window and swipes a card before the gate will open and I'm confused as we pull up to what looks like another guard station.

It is a guard station, but the guard even has those classy white gloves I see on gentlemen on television and I'm jealous before I realize the man has a job where he has to deal with snooty rich ass holes all day, and then I'm not so jealous anymore. Grimmjow lowers his window and the guard tilts his navy cap before opening another gate that lets him through, "Good afternoon, Jaegerjaques-sama."

Grimmjow only grunts as he rolls up his window and passes through the second gate. We begin spiraling upwards before it opens up onto an even, small parking garage that is well lit even in this time of day. We pass a Rolls and a Bentley, making my mouth water. Every car in here costs more than my dad's entire clinic.

Grimmjow parks and we hoof it to the immaculate elevators that are conveniently located on either end, and it seems like we just stepped in it when it's dinging open on the top floor.

The penthouse is amazing. I've never been in a penthouse so I didn't know exactly what I was supposed to think, but it was beautiful, even by guy standards. White marble everywhere, sleek white chairs and black leather couches, thick bleach white rugs and gigantic paintings hung on the walls. Grimmjow didn't really give me a tour, so I just followed him into what was the kitchen, filled with glaring metal appliances that looked like they haven't even been used yet. He opened the fridge and took out two beers, passing one to me and we both took a few sips as I asked him about his new place. He shrugged, said it was going to be awesome to finally be living on his own with Godric, and then music started coasting through space, making my fingers tingle and my cheeks redden.

Piano music. Godric.

I smile like a moron before nearly jumping out of my skin when Grimmjow makes an extremely loud whistling noise with his hand, "Oi, enough of that Debussy shit! Can't you play anything else?"

The music stops, giving way to soft melodious laughter. I haven't even seen him yet and I feel hard.

"Well?" Grimm says, slapping my ass, "Go say hi."

I yelped at the sudden contact, jumping at least a foot in front of where I had originally been standing, but looking uncertainly at the two glass-plated white french doors that are opened in front of me. It's obviously the piano studio, but I thought it strange that it was right off of the kitchen.

"Ichigo?"

And just the sound of his voice has my feet moving. I peek around the door, a goofy grin on my face as I look into the studio. The entire outer wall is glass, letting natural light into the blisteringly white pristine room.

This is obviously Godric's domain. One wall is covered in bookshelves and stacks of sheet music rest in neat piles around the room.

The piano is white as well, and extremely shiny, but it's not nearly as gorgeous as Godric, who is still sitting at it, smiling at me, his azure eyes drilling straight through me and silencing my lungs.

"Ichigo," he says again, his smile almost whiter then the piano. He stands up, scoots the piano bench back and approaches me, stopping a few inches in front of me. He's taller than me so I have to look up and I know I'm blushing but he doesn't say anything else and I don't know what to say so I just stare.

"Welcome to our home," he finally says, his adam's apple bobbing. Is he nervous too? This reassures me. I think.

"It's amazing," I say, but when I say it, I'm still staring at him like a dope and he grins.

"Have you eaten? I was just about to start preparing lunch," he reached his hand out, taking one of mine, and bringing my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles softly, "if you would care to join my brother and I?"

And it's the way he says _my brother and I _that has me practically cumming in my pants. I have to close my eyes for a second as he lets go of my hand so that I can focus on controlling my hormones, and it's only after thinking about my boner that I realize I look like a complete slob in gym shorts and a dirty wife beater. Godric is wearing some kind of loose-fitting white pants that are dragging on the floor with a white tunic top that is open at the collar, exposing a lot of his delicious flesh and the tips of his collarbone tattoo I want to lick. His hair is down around his face, trailing his shoulders, and I find myself wondering what it would be like to tug on it during sex...

"I want spaghetti," Grimmjow says into my ear, making me yelp for the second time that day.

Both brothers laugh and I slap Grimmjow's shoulder when he licks the shell of my ear, but Godric saves me by taking my hand and leading me back to the kitchen, where he begins to give me a lesson in creating the perfect spaghetti, a recipe he had learned while abroad in Tuscany one summer and it had become Grimmjow's favorite dish ever since.

It was only after lunch that things started to unravel.

...

_Trouble so soon? Oh yes, you know me. I always layer on the angst before smex :) And I have no idea what I'm doing with this fic, so please forgive me for the bipolar rollercoaster that is Ichigo's thought process. One moment he's furious, the next he's smitten, and please believe me when I say that rape is a serious issue and I don't take it lightly, but I wanted to incorporate it in this fic and I will be explaining more about their pasts in the upcoming chapters. Flashbacks? Please give me some feedback I'd like to know what you guys are curious about concerning the twins' pasts and so on. And don't worry: I'm not going to make this fic uber-dramatic, but as you can see, this fic may be a little (EXTREMELY!) farfetched here and there and whatnot. I'm extremely tired if you can't tell, so bye for now. ~TPP_

"You've been waitin' your whole life for someone like me, huh, baby face?" Grimmjow chuckled.


	5. Chapter 5

_Figures. I had a solid direction I wanted to run in, but it looks like my Muse decided to take a detour down to Fuck Around Town._

_Warning: Grimmjow says if you can't handle it, then fuck off. -TPP_

**Knocking on an Open Door**

Chapter 5.

We ate lunch together. It was delicious. I could get used to Godric's cooking.

Grimmjow ate more than Godric and I combined, but I don't know where he puts it. He's big, lean, and mean. He has to feed his insanity somehow, I guess.

When we're done, I help Godric do the dishes while Grimmjow decides to turn on an impressive-looking stereo system and blast some heavy metal shit before raiding the refrigerator for some beers.

Godric scrubs while I stand next to him at the sink, rinsing what he hands to me and then we have to towel dry. It's stupid, but I'm pretty happy right now, just with this.

Grimmjow's cracked open his second beer when he says, "I'm bored, God."

I blush profusely at the way he says it. And the nickname: quit sacrilegious, but what about this relationship isn't?

Godric turns, leaning back against the sink, staring at his twin, "What do you want me to do about that, Grimm?"

Grimmjow's leer makes my dick jump, "A lot of things."

"Would you like something to drink?" Godric deadpans, staring at me.

I swallow, "Yeah."

Godric offers me anything in the fridge. He pours two glasses of white wine and offers me one of the goblets. Grimmjow grabs the bottle and more beers and ushers us into the living room area.

We drink. Godric only has one more glass of wine after my three. I'm so nervous I can't help it.

It's when my face and chest are feeling totally flushed that I notice Grimmjow's finished all of his beers and is currently leaning back on the other white couch, arms splayed out on the backrest, his eyes focused on me.

_Oh shit. _

"Shouldn't drink so much, kid," he says.

I drain the rest of my goblet, staring at him defiantly, "Shut up."

"You want us to take advantage of you?" he replies silkily.

He licks his bottom lip when he says this.

My erection is rather sudden and painful.

"Excuse my brother," Godric says near my ear. I just about melt into the floor at the sound of his clear, low voice. Not as gruff as Grimmjow's, but it's just as sexy, "He becomes rather brash when intoxicated."

This makes me laugh. It's partly the alcohol, but that was rather funny, "Grimm's brash when he's sober."

"Funny, huh?" Grimmjow said, running a hand through his hair before sighing again, "Look, this is cute and all, but I'm horny."

Godric smirks at the edge of his wine glass, "You have two capable hands, Grimmjow."

Grimmjow's eyes smolder, "I got two capable brats now, too."

My stomach feels all fuzzy. Grimmjow sure as hell doesn't beat around the bush.

Godric sets his glass down on the glass coffee table in front of us and looks at me, "I don't want him pressuring you: something new like this will take time. Are you alright with us?"

As in…_them?_ As in…_watching?_ I don't know what to say. It takes me a minute to answer, but I finally shake my head up and down.

"I don't know how this is going to work," I say honestly.

Godric smiles before leaning over and kissing me on the cheek, "We've never done this before either."

My heart was hammering. I felt so special, needed. Sure, I had no idea where this relationship was going, but what the hell? Not everything in life has a blue print.

Grimmjow chuckles, "So what? Orange is on the sidelines?"

"For now I think that would be best," Godric replies before looking at me again, "Unless you feel ready?"

I don't know what to say. I'm too nervous, too anxious, too scared. I'm trying to be an adult about this: I mean, it sounds stupid, but I didn't really think about the sex side of things.

Of course I wanted to sleep with them, but I'd never even thought about it being at the same time. Except for that one day where Grimmjow implied that he'd want to fuck me at the same time as his brother. Just looking at Grimmjow you know he's a kinky son of a bitch, but Godric? Maybe this is my opportunity to learn his true colors as well, his likes and dislikes.

"Fine then, it's settled," Grimmjow says, standing up and approaching the couch Godric and I are sat on. He stands in front of Godric.

Then he drops to his knees, his hands on Godric's knees before they trail up to his crotch, "Pay attention, Ichigo. You might learn something, yeah?"

"Grimmjow," Godric says, and the way he says it makes Grimmjow leer and move up along his chest to kiss Godric on the mouth, his fingers massaging Godric's thighs.

"Fuck yeah. I love it when ya talk to me like that."

I think I had a mini seizure.

Grimmjow unzips Godric's pants, pulling a ready and willing red-tipped cock out. I have a hand over my mouth by this point to keep myself from making any stupid noises. I'm trying to control my breathing as Grimmjow moves his face forward, his tongue licking up the base to the tip.

Godric leans back more against the couch, his longer hair hiding his face as he fists a hand in Grimmjow's hair and watches him, "Grimmjow."

Grimmjow makes a low grunting sound as he unzips his own pants and fists himself with one hand while the other goes to town on Godric's. Grimmjow keeps licking, teasing, nipping.

Then he's sucking. Mowing down on it.

Like a Hoover vacuum cleaner.

I don't bring my hand to my crotch fast enough. I practically shriek as I come in my pants, white dots of light in front of my eyes.

It was so sudden it hurt.

As I'm coming back down, Grimmjow has taken his mouth off of Godric and is looking at me, his eyes dark blue pools. Godric is looking at me too, his cock leaking copious amounts of pre-cum. The veins are almost purple along the ridge of his impressive cock.

I lick my lips.

"Forgot you were a virgin," Grimmjow says lowly, swiping his tongue along Godric's shaft, the hand he had been using for himself moving up under Godric's shirt, exposing his chest.

Godric's breath hitches as I watch Grimmjow twist and tug on Godric's nipples.

Godric's face is completely flushed at this point. He leans forward slightly, tugging on Grimmjow's hair as he sucks Godric harder.

"Grimmjow…"

Grimmjow took his mouth off only long enough to say, "Come on, cum in my mouth."

Godric's body stiffens, Grimmjow's tongue out and mouth open as Godric lets out a cry and comes, his orgasm making my body shake, my legs twitching.

Grimmjow licks his lips and looks at me.

"Christ," I say.

He moves over on the floor.

I realize he's between my legs now.

He's unzipping my pants. I'm not stopping him.

And he says, "Nah, the exact opposite."

Then his warm mouth is on my cock.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

I must be chanting this out loud because then Grimmjow let's my dick go with a pop and is standing in front of me, his erection bobbing in my face.

He still hasn't come yet. It looks angry and painful. Maybe he's a masochist?

"You already came once," Grimmjow says lowly, one of his hands raking through the hair on the back of my neck, "You're going to have to work harder for round two."

I'm so hard and hot and horny and slightly intoxicated and Godric is breathing normally again and watching us and his eyes on me are what make me reach my hand forward and grab Grimmjow's weeping cock.

My tongue touches the tip.

Strange. Salty. Musky.

YUM.

I lick experimentally. I've never done this before. I suppose there should be shame, but there isn't, because this is Grimmjow. I can always be myself around him.

No rules. No boundaries.

I'm really starting to like the taste now, so I start nibbling, just barely allowing my teeth to graze the flesh before sucking further into my mouth, my hand beginning to move rhythmically.

This must surprise Grimmjow because he bucks into my mouth. I gag, but that only makes me take him in more.

His fingers are tight in my hair. I like it.

"Shit, he's a natural," Grimmjow growls.

He slowly begins to fuck my mouth.

"Hm," Godric intones.

I realize I'm still hard.

I want to get Grimmjow off.

Grimmjow's groaning now.

He pulls out of my mouth, works his own hand on his cock furiously.

And then he's coming all over my face.

It's sticky and pretty gross, but I don't care. I'm proud of myself.

Grimmjow leans me back against the couch, breathing heavily. He kisses me sloppily, licking his own cum off of my face before he's pulling on my dick and I cry out.

"Grimmjow."

Godric's eyes are intense, almost black as he removes his shirt and stands up to remove his pants and boxers fully, giving my eyes an eternity's worth of wanking material.

He's paler than Grimmjow. Grimmjow inherited a more olive toned skin, but Godric is still gorgeous to look at.

"Yeah?" Grimmjow says.

"Get the lube."

Then Grimmjow's gone for about sixty seconds. When he comes back, he's carrying a small bottle and is naked as well.

Both twins stare at me. My heart explodes out of my chest.

Christ.

Godric pulls me to my feet, his hands cupping my face gently as he kisses me. His arousal is poking me in the stomach. I let his tongue in my mouth.

Godric is an amazing kisser. Just as passionate as Grimmjow, but I feel like he's taking his time to make me feel good. That thought alone makes me feel hotter than I already am.

Then he pulls away.

Grimmjow grunts something in German before biting one of Godric's ears aggressively and leaving the room, bottle in hand.

I'm confused.

The confusion must show on my face because Godric smirks and pecks me on the lips again before saying, "Bedroom."


	6. Chapter 6

_Time flies. Holy shit. It's been almost six months. I'm working on so many things right now, my mind is everywhere, so sorry this is short, but I felt so bad I just gotta give ya something. Forgive this drabble: it's probably the shortest chapter I've ever written in my life. -TPP_

* * *

**Knocking On An Open Door**

Chapter 6.

I followed Godric to the bedroom, staring at his ass the entire way there.

I must be the most perverted mostly-virgin on the planet.

Grimmjow's leaning against a giant bureau, arms crossed over his chest, smirking at us as I keep staring at him, than back to Godric, then to the massively giant white bed that dominates the room.

I panic. I'm freaked. I think it's a normal reaction.

Godric looks at me and he knows, "It's okay. It's okay if you just want to watch for right now."

"This is moving really fast."

"I know. I'm sorry," Godric replies, squeezing my hand before leading me to a comfortable looking dark brown leather reclining chair. I sit down. I feel much better. Grounded.

"Or we don't have to do this right now. We could put our clothes back on," Godric says with a smile. It's sincere: it's so sincere it makes me close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"Well I…I kinda wanna…see," I stutter out, my ears positively burning.

"Unh, how am I supposed 'ta keep my hands off 'im when he blushes like that?" Grimmjow growls, one of his hands beginning to stroke his stiffening cock, "Fuckin' impossible…"

"And what about me?" Godric asks, raising a perfect eyebrow, "I think it's time to collect on that wager, dear heart."

Grimmjow's eyes narrow slightly before he grins, "Yeah? Ya wanna fuck me?"

"I know it's rare, but…Ichigo has me…very…possessive at the moment," Godric intones, approaching Grimmjow and running his hands down Grimmjow's sides.

"What wager?" I ask, my eyes glued to their every movement. If it was some kind of bet about me sleeping with them, murder might be on the menu tonight instead of hanky panky.

"Jus' a lil' gambling: I fucking hate horses. Shoulda' known better," Grimmjow said, leaning into Godric and nipping his bottom lip.

"Do you play poker, Ichigo?" Godric asked conversationally as he pushed his twin brother rather aggressively onto the bed.

I swallowed my saliva to avoid choking, "N-no."

"Good. Never play against Grimm. He'll rob you blind," Godric said, climbing over Grimmjow's body until he was straddling him, "and then he'll make you strip."

"Bonus round for fucking," Grimmjow laughed, his hands grabbing at Godric's firm ass.

I had to swallow my saliva again and put my hands over my crotch. Thank Kami I had had enough sense to wear loose mesh basketball shorts or I'd be in a world of pain right about now.

"I think that's enough talk for now, Grimmjow," Godric husked lowly, engaging his twin in a searing kiss.

"You love it when I'm loud," Grimmjow said, rolling and reversing their positions so quickly it made my head spin.

Effectively having his twin pinned, Grimmjow lowered his mouth to Godric's neck, immediately beginning a hectic assault on his flesh.

"Grimm…" Godric mewled, obviously fighting his twin's aggressive advances, "It was my turn…"

"Shut up," Grimmjow rumbled, the muscles of his back taught as he slowly began to grind himself against his twin, "Yer gonna love it."

Godric moaned into his brother's mouth, his hands tugging on those messy blue locks, his powerful legs wrapping around Grimmjow's hips like a vice.

"I'm gonna pass out," I announced, feeling like my eyes were going to roll into the back of my head.

Would it be dangerous to pass out with a boner? Would it still be there when I regained consciousness?

I palmed my erection through my shorts, biting my bottom lip to keep myself in check.

I couldn't pass out. No no no. Not until I'd seen _EVERYTHING_. They'd barely begun, by the looks of it.

So when the front door chimed, I thought I was dreaming.

Grimmjow sat up, growling in irritation, "You gotta be fuckin' shittin' me."

The doorbell chimed again, followed by hurried pounding.

"Are you expecting guests, Grimmjow?" Godric said, his voice a wet dream wrapped in acid.

Grimmjow started ranting in German, reluctantly kissed Godric one more time before getting out of the bed and walking out of the bedroom as naked as the day he was born.

My eyes widened, "He's gonna answer the door like that?"

Godric smirked at me, running a hand through his dragging blue locks. He looked like he'd been fucking all day but nothing had even happened yet.

Made me shudder to think what he'd look like after actually getting to a couple rounds of fucking.

"He's an idiot," Godric said, sliding out of the bed to put on loose-fitting white pants and slip on a white tank top. I heard loud voices at the door: Grimmjow and some other man saying something, followed by trilling laughter of a woman.

Godric approached me at the chair and dipped his head to give me a peck on the lips, "but he's our idiot."

_Our idiot. _I like that.

We left the bedroom quickly, entering the living room area just as an insanely tall skinny man with long black hair sauntered into the room followed by Grimmjow who looked to be fighting off a big chested girl with green hair.

The spoon man lit a cigarette before plopping onto the couch and staring at me, his slit eyes tracking over my body over and over again before he smiled a giant piano toothed grin.

"Alright alright, I missed you too, now get offa me," Grimmjow cackled, putting the big boobed girl in a headlock. She squealed and squealed before barking something in German and he released her, letting her go.

She was a fucking bombshell. This woman was hot, scorching, with legs that went for months, not just days, especially in the fashionable gold wedges that had to have been eight inches tall. She had to be a model. She was dressed in what looked like a trench coat dress, her bracelets alone probably costing more then my entire college tuition. Her big grey eyes focused on Godric and she squealed again, launching herself at him and giving him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

It deflated me. Seeing her with not just Grimmjow but Godric too was like a punch to the stomach.

Was this the girl Grimmjow was talking to on the phone? Bitch Tits?

Was she fucking both of them, or just Grimmjow? Was she fucking spoon guy too?

"Got any sake?" the spoon man said, nearly done with his cigarette. I could tell by his clothes that he had money to burn and wasn't someone to be messed with. It was weird seeing a guy with such long, gorgeous black hair wearing a tailored black suit and tie, but it worked for him. His hair was pulled back in a halfsie. When he had looked at me, his eyes were so brown they looked black, a single white scar running vertically down one cheek.

Yakuza. Had to be yakuza.

Shit.

What had I gotten myself into?

* * *

_Review and let me know what you think. If I can swing it, I'll be updating again in the next week. How do you guys feel about having a break from the present and getting some flashback of how Grimm and God got together? I kinda wanna play with Grimmjow's perspective with the rape, maybe even try Godric's perspective, but I'm wary. I created Godric, but even I'm not sure I could do him in first person...he feels so complicated to me...*sweat drop* -TPP _


	7. PROMO!

**DO NOT REPLY TO THIS MESSAGE! JUST GO COMMENT ON THE NEW STORY! ...PLEASE :)**

**The Bad News:** This is not a story update.

**The Good News:** I'm shamelessly promoting me and Racey's new joint account, **bakafriendsforever.**

**More Good News:** The page will feature our brain baby, a joint-fun-for-all GrimmIchi fic featuring a House, M.D. twist. We're calling it **Doctor Dick.**

It's all about **doctors, lab coats, smut, sex, drugs**, maybe even some **rock 'n' roll**. Actually, there will definitely be rock 'n' roll. And lots of sex. Lots of it.

Did I mention Dr. Kurosaki has an oral fixation? Or that Dr. Grimmjow House has mad swag with his bitchin' cane?

If you like me or Racey's stories, this is your chance to have your deepest desires/dreams come true.

Come on. I know you've thought about it: what would it be like for two notorious GrimmIchi pervert writers to team up and hold nothing back?

Hope you guys check it out. We're excited, we've been collaborating, and we can't wait to unleash the cracktasticness that is sure to be the Bleach universe clashing with the House universe.

It'll be focusing on GrimmIchi, but we're throwing around other couples as well. When it comes to me and Racey, we brainstorm the beJesus out of each other.

So yeah, you're welcome ;)

**CHECK IT OUT!**

p.s: My exams are over in two weeks, and I swear to the yaoi gods that I will be updating and finishing my personal stories the second the semester winds down. School, work, and the joint fic is sucking up my time, but I WILL get back to my original babies, and I have other babies I've been working on too, so it should be awesome! And** CHECK OUT RACEY'S NEW STUFF! I just got hooked on her newest 'The Cleaners'. Fucking brilliant!**


	8. Quick Announcement

Quick Announcement

Hey guys sorry I've dropped off the face of the planet (or so it seems). I'm not even going to bullshit you, I've been working and trying to figure out how to tackle fall since I'm graduating and have to do something with my life now, but I PROMISE I'm not giving up my fan fiction writing. All stories WILL be finished in their own time, so no worries on that battlefront.

Any who, I know you're pissed that this isn't an actual update, but I wanted to get the word out because I forgot to and now it's only in a few weeks, so I wanted to give you guys a head's up in case any of you are in the area.

I'll be hosting a MATURE fanfiction panel called "Perverts Anonymous" at Mizu Con in Miami, Florida. The con is August 17-19, and the panel will be that Saturday night, the 18th. Not sure what time yet, but I'll be at the con, so if any of you guys are near me, please come say hi. I can't wait for the panel: it'll be a really good time. I'll be hosting other panels that weekend too. I know this is the internet and people are spread all over the place, even other countries, but just wanted to share. Check out the official Mizu Con website for more details about who's attending and what's going on: it was my favorite con last year, so I know it's going to be fun.

Thanks guys and I'll be updating soon! I'm going to try my hardest to get as much material out as possible before the fall semester starts as I'll be substitute teaching brats in middle school and high school on top of weaseling my way into grad school, so hold tight! I won't forget about my stories: I know they seem to take forever, but leaving reviews like "update soon" and "you haven't updated in forever are you ever going to finish" only pressures me and makes me go do other things besides write. I'm also working on original short fiction for publication, so please avoid making me grumpy.

Thanks for sticking with me so far. -TPP


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